All is Fluke in Love and War
by Run away away
Summary: Eshé runs away from her home to live her dream and travel the world like her all-time hero Link, but she meets Arven, strange girl searching Hyrule for mysterious reasons. Lucky Hazard, or Destiny? Will the incertain future awaiting them become any clearer? Soon they are embarked on an adventure that encompasses them entirely and is beyond anything they could have hoped for...
1. The Runaway

**So, this is the part where I have to hook you up with my story. Beware.**

**This story is set in an AU. It happens in the realm of Twilight Princess (Wii version - Gerudo desert East, and the rest, well, West).**

**Most - actually, all - of my main characters are OCs. In other fandoms this seems to be pretty common, but in Zelda, I don't see this very much... However I'm a firm supporter of OCs, especially in Zelda.**

**Let me explain myself: if you see a character called Link, aren't you going to immediately assume he will be the one to save Hyrule, and if not, at least play a large part in the future of the kingdom? If you see a maiden named Zelda, won't she be irredeemably labeled as 'the Princess Zelda'?**

**That's... no fun. It's like opening a novel and going, ''oh, look, the hero; and hey, there's the pure princess, no surprise... derp****''. I'm not saying the two are always on the good side, but they're mostly always important. And by not inserting them at the start, by having no Zelda or Link at the first chapter, I can surprise you.**

**I can create an in depth story that can spin you 'round and 'round in circles, and even if you desperately want ****Link and Zelda to show up, even if you're watching out for any tiny hint of their arrival... I bet you won't even see them coming.**

The only glow that pierced the inky darkness of this cool summer night, was the light of the stars. The transcendent, ethereal glow starkly contoured the hulking building suffocating the canyon, the infamous HQ of the Faltwin organization. Nothing came to trouble the frightening and heavy silence that stifled the ravine, not even the cicadas; as if all wanted to pay their respect to the sacrificed dead whose tortured souls had not yet escaped their final shrouds.

"OUCH! You just stepped on my foot!"

Nothing, save perhaps two strange humans, a young woman dressed like a princess and an equally young man, wearing the flowing robes of a priest. The pair was silently creeping through dark, menacing corridors, wincing each-time a door creaked more than the rest, reluctant to reveal its secrets: but they were probably being overly cautious, as every guard they past lay crumbled in a heap on the ground, plunged into a deep sleep thanks to the anesthetic they had vaporized through the air-vents. They were really evil geniuses (hehe).

"It's your fault for having feet so big!"

The young man, a tall oaf, tearfully sighted and resumed his walk. He bore a brilliant cascade of beautiful, azure-colored hair, tied into a low ponytail with a velvet bow, that did nothing to bring color to his deathly-pale face. Framing his thin, aquiline nose were two light grey eyes, of a misty intensity and unearthly quality. The irises flashed as he stepped towards a particularly menacing metal door, seeming to have no handle, and his high cheekbones flushed in an intense effort when he began to recite a particularly complicated spell to open it. It didn't resist for long (the impenetrable door was ready for all types of assaults! Except perhaps this one...) and he pushed it open, the hinges wincing and creaking even louder than the previous ones.

His partner startled, biting her lip casting a fearful glance around. If the young man was a creature of the night, his beauty only revealed when the moon cast its beams on his pale hair and transformed it in a cascade of shooting star, she was a purely diurnal person. Short to the point of almost looking like a child, she possessed a long river of light blond locks, and a pair of intense, electric blue eyes she typically lined with the deepest black khol. The woman, was usually very sweet, save when she got angry and used manly grunts to communicate or when she was excited and talked in squeals; but currently she was more frightened than anything, shadowing her partner and hiding behind his thin shoulders. 

As her partner took a step forward, plunging in the dark corridor that stretched before them, she let out a strangled cry and started, in a murmur chocked by her nerves:

"Are you absolutely sure this is a good idea?"

The robber, because that was what he was about to become, sighted as they came before another door, even more impressive than the last one, and rummaged through his memories in search of the right spell to use. His companion, in a last burst of reason, stammered:

"I mean I know we're not well paid, but we have enough money for noodles... but if we steal their big project we're not going to last long!"

She cast fearful glances around them, frightened a guard would wake up and come for them, or that somehow someone was alerted of their coming.  
In a clean 'clic' that sent her jumping towards the ceiling, and barely catching her step on the wall, the wide door slowly swung open, revealing a dark, wide room. Twenty glass pedestals were lined up in the middle of it, each haloed by a single, fiery torch.

Her partner hurried forward, and cautiously removed the glass protection of the furthermost plinth, revealing its guarded treasure: a beautiful, lavender flowers, that trembled along with the rhythm of his heartbeats. He looked at it, pleasure coloring his cheeks, and thought of all the shiny things that would be given to him if he succeeded his mission: he loved shiny things.

"I've already told this and I'll say it again: the N.I organization is _over_. We only need to steal those pretty little flowers and give them to the Faltwin envoy, and we'll be officially integrated to the best criminal organization of Hyrule, and paid so well we'll have all the shiny jewels of Hyrule too!" he mumbled, smiling and totally won over. 

And, leaving those well said words hang in the air, he moved on to the next pedestal, under the worried eyes of his partner. Her companion always lost any common sense when shiny things were in question, and it worried her to no end that the plan he'd embarked her on would get them killed, or worse.

However her worries of being discovered proved unnecessary, as soon her partner had stuffed all the flowers in his wide and worn bag, set his magical-bomb in the exact middle of the room, and was grabbing her arm, taking her in a crazy dash for the exit. They sprinted along the metal corridors, breath frantic and imagination running wild with stress, the echo of their steps drilling their minds with the panicked rhythm of their heartbeats; as the grey hallways blended into a single continuous line. 

Eventually they burst out of the HQ and into the canyon, and Candid fumbled around for their scarlet teleportation stone. In the blink of an eye they were gone.

According to the local newspapers, the magical bomb exploded at three forty three a.m exactly, transforming every thug within the vicinity into Deku Scrubs. 

But when that happened the two criminals had already been far away...

…

"Agent Candid Crook and Agent Angela Fell?" harshly demanded a voice.

Both bandits startled, hearts leaping to their mouths, and synchronously raised their heads, fearful eyes finding the figure that had called them away from their stressful waiting. A hulking figure of a man in an ugly, bright scarlet suit stood beside a grand, sculpted and half-open door. His narrowed, almost-red irises fell on them with the force of a leaden screed, his shoulders were proudly and strictly held back. The only hair his bald, round head featured was an imposing blond and curly mustache.

"Enter."

They followed him to a wide, luxurious and luminous room, as he settled behind a ancient and painted desk, in a swiveling chair. He did not ask them to sit and they dared not to. The plush carpet absorbed all sounds but the noise of their frightened panting, and their hands were already moist. 

"I have heard you possess what I asked for."  
"Y-y-yes s-sir," stammered Candid, reaching for his smelly and patched up bag; but his wet hands skidded over the soft cloth and he had to hastily dropped to the floor to pick it up under the man's condescending glare. 

"I have it right there," he yelped in a strangled tone.

They both hurried to set the twenty Blessed Flowers on the desk, hearts hammering in their chests. When they were done the red-suited man calmly inspected them, the heavy silence further stressing the two robbers who were already on the verge of hyperventilation. To their alarm his cheeks flushed red with anger and he outrageously slammed his palm on the desk. 

"The last three ones are completely squashed!"  
"I-I'm so sorry sir! I'm so sorry!' shrieked Candid. 'We had a rough landing with your teleportation stone-"  
"I asked for twenty perfect Blessed Flowers, not seventeen." icily observed the man.

The two fell on the floor, cowering, foreheads touching the rug.

"We're so sorry sir!"  
"Sir we'll do anything you ask!"

Candid convulsively tightened his fingers around a foot of the desk as Angela cast him a vicious, vengeful, 'you'll pay for what you go me into' look, and the man coldly laughed. 

"Anything?"  
"Yes-"  
"Yes of course!"

Silence stretched on, the man twirling his huge blond mustache, enjoying his power and his little effect.

"... Very well. I have a mission for you." 

They froze for a second, unable to believe their ears, and jumped to their feet. 

"Thank you sir-"  
"Thank you so much!" 

The man's big and fat right index pressed a big red button, and a magic, scarlet stone hummed to life, projecting a hologram on the white wall to their left. They instinctively turned towards it, Candid fascinated by the gem. The picture was of a sort of beautiful blue jewel, threaded by a single simple silver mesh.

"My agents have reported to me that a girl from the Castleton Academy has this jewel, that is rightfully mine." 

A new picture flashed, this time of said girl. She was to put things simply, beautiful, bearing a long cascade of crow-black hair, silvery-blue eyes and flushed cheeks. She looked downcast on the picture, her pupils fixing something that the observer couldn't see; a white, bland name-tag was strung around her neck: Arven.

"This is the girl. And I want her necklace, one way or another."

/o\

It was commonly agreed, across all of Hyrule, that horse riding was a very reliable means of transport. With the right sort of teaching, it could become a second nature, and some of the most gifted souls could even use the loyal beasts to make a living.

Royal breeds of stallions and mares alike constituted the pride of many nobles or persons even higher up the social hierarchy, and they were a symbol of financial health as much as of pure blood and political power. For the most common spirits, horses simply meant messages safely sent, speedy deliverance of grain and fun times spent with happy companions. Many were, when occasions arose, taught horse riding from a young age.

And those occasions, had arisen for Eshénadoru. However as it was commonly agreed, across all Hyrule, that horse riding was a very reliable means of transport, it was also commonly agreed, across all the king's court, that Eshénadoru clearly wasn't made for it.

And as was said...

"Left! Left you stupid horse, _LEFT!"_

__

The cry ended in an infuriated shout as the young girl was violently ejected, curls, flailing arms, silk vermillion pantaloons and all, onto a wide stack of stinking hay and manure. She scrambled up, staggering, shouting indignant curses, and waving a small fist at the proud black stallion that had stopped in front of her, neighing in an equally enraged tone.

"Moldorm shit! LEEVER FOETUS!"

The insults resonated in the small stable where the incident had taken place, echoing off the tall walls of baked earth. Shafts of sunlight played along the walls, sliding through holes elegantly carved out of them, the repetitive diamond-shaped patterns lining the topmost parts of the room. Eshénadoru advanced on her stallion, coming dangerously close to the angry beast. It flattened its charcoal ears, blowing provocatively through its nostrils.

"I only wanted to go out of a ride! IT'S THE ONLY THING I CAN DO!"

At that, the girl swooned, stumbling a bit before landing butt-first in the icky carpet she'd been trying to get away from in the first place. Humid horse poop splattered the inside of her thighs and her knees, angering her even further. She'd banged her elbow on something in the dirty hay when she'd been ejected from her horse, and an unnatural, sickly purple bruise was blossoming from it and creeping up both parts of her arm.

She sniffed noisily and clenched her feet, suddenly deflated, staring up at the black horse with wet amber pupils.

"I want to get better, Darof!" she whispered hoarsely.

Her beast stared back at her with intense dark brown eyes, ears uneasily resuming a normal stance. Eshénadoru difficultly stood back up, wrinkling her nose at the inside of her pantaloons before bending down to clean them a bit, coating her fingers with dark manure in the process. Through the holes in the walls, spilling over the tense silence, came the raucous noises of the city.

Eshénadoru was by no means an especially beautiful girl. She had a round and laughing face, but it conserved baby fat and as such was very unlike those of most of her kin; her impish nose was too often barred by an ugly, defiant wrinkle, her lips and legs were parched and unheeded, and her dark skin was oily with perspiration, drops born of the hours she spent practicing martial arts, climbing, athleticism, and any sport she was allowed to try. This had given her hard and lean muscles unlike most of the other girls of her age and status. However the worst thing by far, about her, was her _hair_.

… If it truly deserved the appellation. Eshénadoru had inherited of her mother a huge tangle, of unruly, provocative, forked and dry, curls. The demons were of a dark brown, almost black color, and could have been very beautiful like her mater's were said to have been, except for the fact that being Eshénadoru, she rarely did so much as glance at them, and the whole mess had grown to look exactly like Keese' nest, prey bones and all.

The girl straightened and waved her fingers about in an attempt to get rid of the poop on them, but only succeeded in taking out the bigger pieces of it and splattering the drops on Darof's nostrils. The stallion angrily backed up against the caramel wall, shaking his head.

"I'm only making us even, Darof-dearest," muttered Eshénadoru, giving up on the cleanliness off her pantaloons and wiping her hands on her knees.

She wearily cast her eyes on her right elbow, the purple bruise almost throbbing, its dark fingers however retracting themselves a bit.

"I don't know why I've been getting these recently..." she muttered.

Eshénadoru wished she could hide the whole thing, but she only wore a scarlet bandeau to conceal her chest and growing breasts, and the sash she had across her waist was sewn to her bottoms. She looked around the box for some tissue, but nothing closely resembling it found. She'd have to wait until the bruise completely faded, but it could be fifteen minutes by the time its somber grasp finally retracted, and someone would be looking for her by then...

She crept up to Darof, who was chewing some of his leftovers, and tentatively ran her stinky fingers along his charcoal mane, the coarse hairs reluctantly sliding between her tanned extremities. When she was little, she used to say that the horse was over baked bread that'd been charred black... but it's name was based on her beloved father Arofa.

Suddenly hurried footsteps drummed across the pavement of the stables and a young woman wearing a fierce expression, burst into the room, fiery hair flying behind her back.

"We said _no more riding!_"

Eshénadoru froze, hands stilling themselves in Darof's mane while he whinnied, startled, before melting into a provocative expression. However, before she could speak, the intruder continued:

"We said _no more physical activities!"_

That broke her off. The girl stammered, blinking her amber eyes several times in shock and clutching at Darof's mane, but not finding anything to reply.

"And we said _dress up and attend the party, _you _dopey!"_

Eshénadoru felt bitter tears come to her eyes, the drops wetting her dark lashes, falling down to her quivering lips and streaking her dirty cheeks. She defiantly jutted her chin out and her grip tightened on Darof. The black stallion uneasily backed from the young woman at the door: the newcomer, startled by the sudden outburst and not expecting such a quick victory, had taken a deep breath and swiftly crossed the room. She towered above the horse riding girl, whose head didn't go past her shoulder, and that allowed her to pull the youngest of the two in a tight embrace, pushing her face to a warm chest. Sobs racked the small body through the horrible mess of forked girls, and rough coughs agitated her burning throat.

"I'm sorry Eshé..." gently murmured the eldest.

Her own silky scarlet hair fell in colorful streaks around the other's head, spreading into a bloody halo.

"The Hylian specialist says its bad for you to tire your body... it's exhausted enough with fighting the sickness as it is... it's for you own good," she finally completed, raising her golden eyes to the sunlight pouring through the top of the walls. Not believing a word she had uttered.

Eshénadoru pushed away from her, pressing her dirty hands on her bare stomach and pushing the remains of icky horse poop in her belly button. The redhead grunted, her painted lip curling into a disgusted scowl. Her attention however quickly returned to the girl in front of her. And if her hair repulsed her sights, her amber irises just as quickly attracted them. Because if it was commonly agreed, across all the king's court, that Eshénadoru clearly wasn't made for horse riding, it was also universally accepted that her gaze was the most entrancing of all Hyrule, with _absolutely_ no biasing or exaggerating... Her eyes danced with mischief and innocence, hints of a burnt brown speckling the edges while the more intense color gathered around the pupil in a contrast all the more highlighted by her inky pupil.

"I know that Tasha...' a hoarse cough from her protege broke into her thoughts. 'I'm just tired of it all... I want to live like everyone else..."

"Well, you can't," came the adamant but however understanding reply.

Tasha was a third of Eshé's world; the third face she'd seen when opening her eyes for the first time, she was told, was her's: she was then six year old but harbored the same angular face and striking red hair as she did now, and if over the years, her words had grown harsher, and her smile less sincere, her eyes were still the same.

Tasha was Eshé's guardian and a constant authority over the young girl. It was ironic, the young woman often told herself, that her job had devoured her life to the point of almost _becoming it_, and that she'd basically become a no-life, but you couldn't deal with Eshé any other way than that: wholeheartedly – or in this case 'wholelifedly' – because that was the precise way that the girl dealt with _you_. She'd seen her protege cry, and cried with her, she'd watched her shout and yell and kick, and did just that in return, she'd shot her insults straight back to their owner with twice as more venom, but at the end of the day Eshé's smile always got to her, her laugh the portrait of the unshakeable trust she lacked, her mischievous winks always the promise of more fun, more blissful moments of ignorance.

On one hand Eshé needed Tasha to give her a framework, she needed a person she could always go back to after another pessimistic diagnosis. On the other Tasha needed Eshé simply because she'd become her entire reason of being, because she'd been assigned to her at birth and because she had _nothing else_, and she was aware of that, that her protege was a devious little leech that had sucked all her privacy away from her, that their relationship was destructive because at the end of the day... Because at the end of day, when Eshé came to her to smile her magical smile and drop all her barriers to laugh, she still had a deadline, she still was condemned. She still...

That was when the young woman's slanted golden eyes, honed on the sickly purple bruise on Eshé's elbow.

"What's that?" she spluttered out.

Eshé's amber pupils widened as she tried to hide the thing, and her lips parted to find some excuse, but to no avail.

"That's not normal! You didn't get that before! Since when have you been having those?" the furious words pierced her ears like an army of miniature pine cones.

She straightened, taking a step away from Tasha and back to Darof, softly bumping against his flank.

"It started _recently! _I didn't know about them till three days ago, alright?"  
"Well, have you talked about it to the doctor? What did he say?"

Eshé jutted her chin out defiantly.

"I _didn't_ talk about it to the doctor."

For an instant, the silence was deafening. Darof uneasily blew a deep breath by his nose, as if sensing the tension.

"_Why? _It's a Hylian _specialist! _Do you have any _idea _how much your father payed to get him here?!_"_

There was a pause, a pause for Eshé to briefly consider the importance of money in her life. To briefly consider how much of his fortune her father put forth to cure her, how much time it took him to approve credits going to doctors, nurses, treatments and the cold baths she'd recently been forced to take, to 'awaken and strengthen her body'. The young girl naively concluded she didn't care.

"I thought they'd go away," she resumed, trying to sound dismayed and innocent.

Tasha's face was a painting of aggravation; and a well hidden, but not completely vanished, sadness. She saw through the girl's game. But she wouldn't denounce her, not until she couldn't possibly avoid it; she'd function as always, under-zealously if that word existed, and hope for the best. She remembered, that she'd once told Eshé to laugh a lot, because each one of those chiming bouts meant three seconds more to live...

"Well, you're all dirty,' she snapped, getting a hold of herself. 'You have to be ready in an hour and you've got... horse poop! Horse poops... all over your thighs! Disgusting, Eshé!"

The younger girl giggled, curls bouncing around her face like a broken halo in the process.

"I know. Do you want some too?" she wagged her fingers out at Tasha, and the young woman backed swiftly towards the entrance of Darof's box.

"Not if you can't catch me!' she snorted. 'And I'm _sure_ you can't!"

She was betting on something simple: Eshé couldn't refuse a challenge. And indeed the young girl straightened, eyes narrowing defiantly, before shouting a war cry and giving chase to Tasha. She sprinted out of the box, spun right in the main room of the stable, almost slipping on the hay and crashing into the baked wall, but Tasha was already out of the place, a blur of azure and salmon-orange silk.

"_Wanna bet?_"

The cry echoed in the entirety of the castle.

Said castle, in simple terms, was huge. It was situated in the nervous center of the desert, which was actually several times the size of Hyrule, in the mountains North-West of Arbiter's Ground. The city, as it was simply called, had been created around twenty years back, when the king had ascended to power. The people constituting it were usually semi-nomadic, and rarely settled in any place longer than two months; however when a man was born and became their leader, the thousands of families populating the desert were obligated to answer to his call and unify. Thus groups of twenty to fifty women flocked to the current capital to create a crowd sometimes more than a hundred thousand strong, a proud army socially ranked by the order in which the families had arrived.

Eshé was born to the family of the Well where Sand Gathers, and her grandmother had been the luckiest woman of the century, the one to have birthed the current king. The group had been small, with three elders and eight daughters, most of them not pregnant, but the coming of the boy had guaranteed them a position in the highest spheres of society.

Tasha, as for her, was a part of the family of the Dune where Moldorm Reside, the Second Family to have answered the Calling of the king. They had been a powerful, vast family before the advent of the man, totaling up to sixty warriors, all very well trained in the arts of combat, and their loyalty to the current regime had been well rewarded. Tasha's mother had been nicely placed in the hierarchy of that particular family, thus her daughter had been blessed with a good job. Or what would have been just that, if it wasn't emotionally destructive...

In short, the castle was in a city, and this city was constructed messily, with a lot of shady disagreements and skulduggery, its image very fitting to the people who had created it. The architecture of the castle was also perfectly matched with its surroundings: the rooms were placed hazardously, the corridors winding about in a totally random manner, the decor changing from foreign to local in a few meters only, ideal hideouts perfect for mischievous business placed all over the buildings, and secret stairways leading to floors no-one knew existed strewn at each corner. Tasha knew this very well. But so did Eshé...

And the chase they were currently undertaking, was bound to find a good place in the memorable collection stored at the back of their minds.

Coming out of the stables, Eshé found herself in a long corridor pierced with many wide, open windows on the left, afternoon sunlight slanting through the arched openings and highlighting the scimitars hung on the right wall in gold. The place was painted in beautiful caramel tones, as was most of the castle.

Tasha was already disappearing at the end of it, so she pumped her muscled legs to run after the young woman, curls whipping across her neck. She turned right, whirling around to face... nothing. The hallway she found herself in was a stubbed tail, quickly ending in a mahogany table and a painted desert vase.

Suddenly she felt hair whipping her shoulder and spun around to find Tasha already running the opposite way, the wide colored glass lamp she had hung herself on squealing dangerously.

"Stalfos spit!"

The redhead knew she wasn't serious, it was just Eshé's favorite curse. Now closer to Tasha, the lithe girl gave an even quicker chase, panting, redoubling her efforts to catch a wisp of the scarlet mane... to find herself crashing in the wall at the opposite end of the corridor, catching herself on her people's repetitive-patterned but flaming tapestries and sending it smashing to the ground.

Tasha was already sprinting up a polished wooden, spiraling staircase, moving up to the higher levels, closer to the room where she wanted to bring the girl.

"You're disappointing me, _Eshé-loved!_"

Soon the crackling of metal oriental slippers on wood told her her protege hadn't given up the chase. They both entered a wide, circular room with polished book cases and armchairs with a few seconds interval. Windows of colored glass threw ghostly light on the braided blue rug carpeting the floor.

Eshé, too excited by the prospect of tackling Tasha, didn't notice that the tanned young woman had veered left to enter yet another corridor. She spun around the tall book shelves, dazed, before noticed that the white curtain that previously covered the opening had been rashly thrown to the floor.

"I'm coming!"

She dashed across a carpeted hallway, and realized, albeit too late, that the door Tasha had fled through on the far right hand side, opposite of a white stone stairway... Led to her own apartments.

As soon as she entered the door, a heavy body tackled her to the plush floor and buried her head into a pile of blue and green cushions, almost chocking her. After a few seconds of wild struggle she was let up, and Tasha was grinning, the painted door leading to the outside already closed and locked behind her back.

"Now,' she said commandingly, 'I'm going to make you pretty."

Much to Eshénadoru's horror, 'being pretty' was a long and grueling process that focused solely, uniquely, and entirely on her.

Tasha first started by dragging her to her suite's bath, located in a square room of diamond-shaped tiles. They all hovered between golden and pale blue tones, their washed away surfaces depicting the crest of the family of the Well where Sand Gathers, a spiraling circle flecked with tiny dots at the rim. The bathing tub, was a massive, very small but deep, stone cylinder, set at the center of the small room. A carved wooden lid rested beside it to keep the water cool, away from the sun. Many pale towels hung from the walls, and a huge, stained-glass window like those of the library they had passed took up a great part of the one furthest away, washing the room with bloody scarlet, rusty orange and hesitant yellow. On the right hand side waited a cupped sink of rare porcelain atop a light wooden dresser, the whole thing choked with brushes, combs, and beauty products. After all this _was _a girl's bathroom. Well, a Eshé's bathroom greatly influenced by Tasha, but that was just a detail.

First things first, the redhead dunked her protege in the bath. The young girl cursed, coughing – however immediately breaking off when her elder swatted at her – feeling the freezing liquid seep into her most intimate parts and seize her in its unforgiving iciness. Her incompetent array of doctors had agreed that frigid water would help revitalize and awaken her body, making it even more resistant. It was just a bunch of shit in her opinion, but _of course _nobody ever asked for it, so she was stuck bathing in that horror twice a day. It was utterly and completely pointless, _and _it wasted precious cold water that their home lacked, but nobody seemed to quite get that.

Tasha left Eshé to scrub and polish herself, taking her dirty clothe with her.

"If you're not clean by the time I'm back, your father'll know about Darof!"

The provocation, even though she knew her guardian would never act on it, left an angry scowl across her face and a defiant wrinkle on her impish nose.

The girl washed herself raw, passing a thick glove down her body and onto her every pore. Dirty tentacles of grime unfurled themselves from around her skin in the water, floating around the clear liquid and hugging the rim of the tub. As soon it was over, Eshé jumped out of the bath, gasping and spilling water everywhere, greeted by the cool air of the interior of the castle. Outside, the sun was baking the world till it rendered its last droplet of water, but here, on the mountainside, a little freshness remained. She looked at herself in the mirror above the sink, for a second, her reflection staring back at her from waist up. Her dark brown curls were a soaked tangle around her round face, curious amber eyes studied her maturing body with a stunned realization. Her curves were beginning to take shape, real shape, her hips and chest becoming that of a woman, her thin waist no longer supporting a simply flat upper body.

Pensively, she dried herself with a heavy woolen towel and then went to knock on the door, telling Tasha she was over. The redhead barged in, holding a clean outfit, and teared the material off her cadet's body.

"Well that's clearly better,' she commented, sniffing the air. 'Though you still smell a bit like poop... Then again that might be natural..."

Eshé stuck her tongue out in mock anger, not bothering to reply.

Soon she was swaddled in light pink silk pantaloons, which pleasantly drifted about her thighs and softly caressed her tingling skin, only tightening at her ankles, where pale yellow lace, the color of dawn's rays, had been sewn. Circular rings of the same color ensnared her legs till about midriff, the pattern agreeably contrasting with the flush of color of her pant. Around her hips, hugging them and showing off their shape, was the same lace as about her ankles. Her waist was completely nude, like that of all her people; covering her breasts was a yet another band of pale yellow, sewn with opalescent pearls around it's bottom. They made a jingling noise as she walked towards the sink, guided by Tasha, and sat on a wooden stool.

"Face time!" the young woman exclaimed almost statistically, watching Eshé huff and squirm in annoyance.

She prayed it'd be quickly over with.

Soon Tasha was dancing about her guinea pig, whipping out product after product to smother the few old pimples Eshé conserved and covering the ones that were starting to appear, then heavily lining her eyes with kohl according to their people's fashion, making them appear even further slanted and according to her, adoringly provocative. The tall redhead then proceeded to flush her cheeks and paint her lips in the pale pink that surrounded her legs and then, frowned unhappily at her protege's face.

"I can't contour or highlight _anything_, with cheeks so round as yours, moonface!"

Poor Eshé was completely lost as to what that sentence could possibly mean.

But Tasha didn't stay inactive for long, or bother to explained what she had said, instead fetching some perfume and spraying storms of it onto the cadet until she coughed and wheezed. She immaturely giggled, watching her recover, before taking a few steps back and admiring the result of her work.

Eshé looked _feminine._ She was dressed like a woman, perfumed like a woman, and made up as a woman! She was clean and... Yes, she had to say it, the fourteen year old looked beautiful. Her pantaloons hid slim and muscled legs but embraced her curved hips and her band, albeit very tight and flattening her growing chest, showed off a thin stomach an older woman would die for; her face even though it was still as round as the sink, was flushed with red and youth and general innocence, and her smile looked full and happy. And even if her horrible mangle of forks and knots still stifled her face, her eyes were _magnificent_, the intense amber color powerfully contrasting with the bold black of the kohl and the pupils who seemed made of the same dark ink... Tasha was lost in a blissful moment of ecstasy and pride, until...

Until Eshé stood up, stuck her tongue out at her, and swiftly wiped a big palm on her face, ruining all her work.

"_ESHE!_"

The young girl giggled, curls bobbing around her round smirking face.

"You ruined all my efforts!"  
"I know!"

Tasha felt burning anger slowly trickle through her, stiffening her body and narrowing her eyes. Eshé looked like she'd eaten raw meat and cried ink tears about it; her cheeks were almost s_triped _with pink and she was orange in some part, giving the general impression of belonging in a freak show.

"_Why _did you_ do _that_?" _the young woman hissed.

"Because I don't like 'being pretty'!" the cadet shot back, smiling.

Tasha strode forward, quivering, and violently grabbed a towel from the wall. She grasped Eshé's hated bob of hair and swiftly pulled the whole thing back, lifting the girl's face to the light, then roughly wiped the white tissue across her face, coloring it with streaks of useless face paint. Eshé almost choked on the thing, trying to cough but only managing a painful raw sort of sound, wheezing as she breathed in to find no oxygen. Finally the cover was flung to the side. Streaks of makeup remained on the sides of the cheeks; the black kohl around the eyes had become grey and around her lips was a faded trace of pink. 

"You could've said that before! Instead, you just waited until the last moment, making _sure_ I'd wasted all that time! … and you know why you did that, _Eshé?_"

The amber-eyed girl took a step back, puffing out her cheek and opening her mouth for an angry retort: Tasha wasn't being far, _of course _she hadn't thought that far ahead, just waited because if she protested the young woman would have tried the makeup on anyway!

"No, of course I don't-"

"Well _I _know why you waited until the last moment,' angrily cut in Tasha. 'Because you're just a _brat, _Eshé, an _ungrateful _brat, and you never care about what others feel!"

"That's not true!" retorted the girl, indignant.

And before Tasha could reply she vehemently added:

"_You're _the one who has a problem here, you overreact for everything! It's just a piece of makeup, what's so important about that?"

But it wasn't just about that. Tasha was trying articulate a feeling, a bitter anger that was eating at her insides, chewing on her ribs; she _needed _to get something out...

"What I mean, Eshé, is that your behavior is always the same. You treat others callously because you don't even try _one second _to put things in perspective, you're egoistical and I know that!' before the girl's protest – after all the eldest didn't try to understand the cadet's dislike of makeup and _now _she was accusing _her _of not walking in others' shoes? – she added, perfidiously: 'well, don't you want to know how I know?"

Eshé fell silent, mulling over the proposition; and there was a lull. A second of it,where Eshé observed Tasha, her catlike face washed vermillion red by a ray of scarlet light, her hair looking like a violent cascade of blood. She innocently wished the conversation would stop there, fearing a good scolding and feeling guilty, because... Because Tasha's eyes were furious but there was a sort of pain around the rim, of betrayal, and she didn't want to be the source of that. … But if the young woman persisted in her completely wild accusations, she wouldn't let herself be pushed around, duh. Her frown deepened, then, not seeing what she could possibly risk by accepting, she acquiesced.

Tasha narrowed her eyes, straightening, towering above her charge, who was still sat on the chair.

"Have you ever thought, even a _single moment_, what you put your father through?"

Eshé stiffened, knowing where this was going, grasping her silk pantaloons. She glared sullenly at Tasha. The girl didn't want to go on that terrain, have that discussion, it was the millionth they time they did, seriously it was getting old!

"I don't put him through _anything, _Tasha."

"_Yes _you do!' the eldest's voice rose, furious. 'You don't have any idea, do you? You don't even try to! Have you ever even considered we might have feelings, have you ever imagined what he goes through because of you, because of you running away, doing sports, acting on whatever _whim _crosses your mind? What others go through? Have you ever imagined what _I _go through?"

Eshé stood up, upturned nose disgustedly puckered, heart suddenly beating at a frenzied pace in her chest and feeling burning and _angry. _In the coldest tone she could muster, she said:

"You can just shove your complaints up your _ass_, _Tasha._"

The woman dangerously froze, preparing to retort, but then she yelled:

"YOU'RE NOT THE ONE WHO'S SICK!"

She pushed her, hands flat on her chest, raising her head to meet her eyes and letting the tears stain her eyes:

"Oh, you're all so _sad _aren't you, Eshé never listens, Eshé doesn't rest her body enough, Eshé doesn't do what _you _want her to do! You're asking _me _if I imagine what _you _go through? Well what about you do the reverse, it might do you some novelty!"

The young girl pushed again, the tears overflowing, and Tasha stumbled, stumbled towards the door, thinking of something to say, but:

"At least you can jump without an expensive _specialist _checking your hear rate or run around like the big girl you are without a doctor ticking the seconds it's taking of your life! And you know why? BECAUSE YOU _HAVE_ A LIFE!"

This time the push was resisted to, after all Tasha was much stronger, and the young woman straightened and spat:

"You have one TOO, Eshé, just OPEN YOUR EYES and make an EFFORT to SEE IT!"

"NO, I _don't_,' bitterly retorted the cadet. 'What's the use of staying stuck in bed all day if I never get to go outside? What's the point of taking all that medicine, of someone testing what I eat and of all those crappy cold _baths_, if I can't never play? WHAT'S THE USE OF ALL THAT, IF I DON'T EVER GET TO LIVE MY DREAM?"

Tasha stood struck dumb in front of a crying Eshé. Her amber eyes were glistening with the salty tears, who mingled with her curls and wet them, and the eldest reached a hand out to wipe them off, not really realizing what was going on, but instead Eshé screamed in a raw voice:

"GET OUT!"

The door opened as if on its own accord, and she screeched again:

"GET OUT, GET LOST, I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU EVER AGAIN!"

And while anger shoved her back to her senses, Tasha pushed her wrecked protege away from her and rushed towards the door, slamming it and shouting at the same time, not feeling quite herself:

"At least _do _something about your _hair_!"

The door timely snapped shut, Tasha narrowly avoided the pot of kohl violently hurled at the door by Eshé. It violently shattered on the impact in a glassy noise, splattering the door and the pale tiles around it a bitter black.

"I'll show you 'my hair'!" muttered the tearful girl, sticking her tongue out at the shut door.

But soon the emptiness and silence unnerved her, and she trudged out of the bathroom, somehow ending up on her bed. The silk sheets felt cool on her burning sheets; she waited until her heart rate slowed and her breath returned to a normal pace.

Her bed was square, perched high above her main room on a wide mezzanine of baked red earth – here everything was made of baked red earth – and surrounded by nothing, because she had decided to keep said mezzanine completely bare. The sides of the mattress and armada of colorful pet-pillows and teddy bears were padded: when she was little, she thrashed in her sleep a lot and had once fallen over the edge of her sleeping place, only owning her life to a pile of cushions. Including her favorite teddy-bear, a mini-Wolfos called Mr. Lick – she absolutely adored him and he was now half reduced to a dirty, saliva riddled grey rag. Which was originally supposed to be white.

Down on the main floor, everything was a mess – then again she was messy, and even Tasha couldn't stop that. Tapestries and rugs were everywhere, sewn with designs of foreign places and horses and mysterious, wild beasts; between them, presided an assembly of cushions, security blankets and another contingent of her army of teddy bears. Leaning against what she called the mezzanine wall, back to her and leaving only a narrow space for her rope ladder, was an enormous, impressive bookshelf, so deep her huddled body could fit in it and so wide she could lay down inside. But even that couldn't contain all her novels.

They were everywhere. Simply everywhere. Books were in her bed, on the floor, under cushions and on some stuffed beasts' laps; they chocked alcoves in the wall and even ruled secret ones she had forgotten the existence of; she walked on them, bumped in them, hurt herself on them but never once cursed them, breathed them and lived them: they were the key to her dream. She wanted to travel, and the characters did just that for her; she didn't believe such vast stretches of water as lakes could exist, but just there her favorite protagonist was seeing it with his own eyes; they loved, they killed, they ran and they rode and fought enemy warriors: they lived.

It was her dream, to live. A promise she had made to herself one night she was finally understanding her sickness, such long years ago. It was the Pact.

She gently eased herself to a huddled, sitting position, and gazed at a novel still lying open on the floor: the hero was called Brodo and came from the mysterious small people of the Bobbits. One of her childhood best-friends, Ethan, had offered her this book to read the days she was stuck in bed, but at the time she'd been too small to understand it, and was sulking because her other best-friend, Link, had left without saying goodbye to her... He was always so occupied with all his magic duels, that he even forget her. But it was his dream to use his magic, and at least he was able to live it...

"Well maybe I can realize my dream, too," she whispered.

And suddenly she was rushing down her ladder, stumbling over herself in her haste, tripping on half upturned rugs and catching herself on blankets, and she tumbled to a halt in front of the book, rereading the part where they swore to be stick with each other and each to do their best, to each bear the common burden of their quest; and looked beside the worn copy where she had scribbled in her hasty handwriting:

"The Road goes ever on and on  
Down from the door where it began.  
Now far ahead the Road has gone,  
And I must follow, if I can,  
Pursuing it with weary feet,  
Until it joins some larger way,  
Where many paths and errands meet.  
And whither then? I cannot say."

Below was her signature, Ethan's in his neat print, and Link's, just his initials. She grasped the piece of paper in her hand, staring at it, like it meant the world. And her heart swelled and she sniffled her nose until it was dried raw, because now, a fierce desire burned it her heart. She could do it! She _would_ do it!

It took only a few seconds for her mischievous mind to work; then she was on her feet and swiftly moving to her bathroom, and in her bathroom turned right until she found an alcove dug in the wall, hidden by a wide white towel. In it was 'what she used' for 'that time of the month', it was a place not even Tasha looked in. But beside that had been stashed, recently, a large satchel; and in that large satchel were what she had saved from her sports clothe. When they'd forbidden she do physical activities a few weeks ago, they'd wanted to destroy the stuff for good measure, but she'd salvaged a part of it, and her climbing dagger, the one that'd saved her life more than one time! … She wasn't clumsy of course, the dirty rocks had just leagued against her.

Anyway. She had the clothe, a pair of good leather boots were packed inside, the one her people wore with good coppery metal soles spiked for good measure. It avoided slipping in their desert sand and was also useful for climbing, that was why she'd gotten the pair in the first place. She just needed... She just needed money, food and water – well duh, who _didn't _need food and water – and... and oh, yeah, her lingerie!

She quickly backpedaled to her bedroom, then turned left, crossing the uneven, plushy terrain and avoiding mined zones – books, books, books – before arriving in front of a door half hidden by a banner of a wide, rushing river (she still didn't believe those could exist). She opened the entrance, to find herself in... what she called the wardrobe room.

It was painted in earthy browns, vibrant greens and washed away blues, colors prized amongst her people because they were said to bring water and fertile lands. The ground was bare dusty earth, cool against her feet; blocking each wall like hulking bodyguards were four, massive grey stone closets. The one furthest away from her contained the lingerie; it was a short distance away, but she plodded forward cautiously: after all, a pair of strangler pantaloons or a slasher belt were quick to appear and could very well jump out to try and _dress her_, one was never too careful. Soon the amber-eyed girl was opening the double doors of the wardrobe, who squeeeeaked on their hinges... to find herself face to face with clothe she never knew existed, pointless jewelry, wide colorful hats and veils, and accessories she didn't even know – or care to know – the name of.

Eshé dug through the lingerie box, casting horrified glances at skimpy tortures devices and satiny push-up bras, eventually finding her trustworthy, stained boxers and sports bra, the very ones she had had to defend in a long trial where she'd faced enraged prosecutor Tasha. She snatched several pairs of them, stood hurriedly back up, and quickly trotted out of them place, finally finding herself safe and sound, the door to the room of doom slammed and her heart racing in her chest.

Soon the lingerie was in her satchel, on top of her Like-like designed wallet – which was jiggling with rupees, she noted with a self-righteous smile.

The young girl stepped back, and took a deep breath.

Unknowingly, Eshé and Tasha shared the same acre pain. They'd both burned with that resenting fire, they'd both needed to retch up all their acid bile and felt so light, so blissfully empty, once it'd been spat out, the sickness leaving for an instant, leaving them quivering with relief... Lashing out, stripping themselves of all their woes, it had felt so good... But the hollowness had turned bitter and painful, chewing at their insides and bringing back the nausea, throwing their complaints and unfulfilled wishes at them with full force, because blaming others didn't erase problems.

However while Eshé could recover quickly, while she had the youthful innocence needed to recover, and a drive, a goal, Tasha possessed none of that. Eshé was already, stealthily making her way down to the stables, setting her satchel down beside a suspicious Darof and promising she'd come back for him later in the evening; but even if Tasha was surrounded by her friends, was loudly laughing and distributing witty remarks according to need, slurping drinks with more than a little alcohol than in mint tea, she couldn't get her mind off Eshé. Because her words had struck home, because she had the maturity Eshé lacked, to question herself and the truth in her words.

Of course, the young girl wasn't aware of that. She merrily made her way down to the party, trying to avoid Tasha – or rather not really looking for her. Teary apologies and wet smoochies would make her resolve waver, and she didn't want that.

Instead she slipped through the crowd of brazen, raucous women surrounding her, looking for a particular someone. The more handpicked bunch of guests would be gathered towards the central room, near the conference platform where her father would be receiving his guests the ambassadors. Where she was, the music was loud and the magically multicolored lights pierced her pupils even when she tightly scrunched her eyes shut; one could barely hear his neighbor talking and was blinded to the point everyone bumped into everyone without needed to justify themselves. She didn't hear her own heart banging to the rhythm of the drums in her chest.

But she knew where her target was; where the women were dancing, in the azure round room where the First Family usually gathered... And there her goal was, surrounded by tipsy-looking friends; two meters tall, wide as a closet and muscled like a Moblin, with a six pack to die for, closely buzzed blond hair, a big nose, tanned skin and looking more than half drunk... Born to the First Family of the Sandstorms that Surprises Spider, alleged best warrior of the century... A'edeh!

Said woman looked down from her glass to find a big blob of brown curls – knots more like – looking up at her hopefully, and laughed:

"Oh, look who's here!"

And her friends, around her, laughed too, though not really knowing why. 

"Can I taste what's in youuur glaaaass?" half pleaded, half whined Eshé, raising her voice to be heard above the music; and looking at the big recipient that was more a bottle than anything else, filled around halfway up – where the other half had gone, that was a mystery – with some transparent liquid: Arak, the local alcohol. 

"That's not for girls like you!" A'edeh barked back, grinning; because it was two years Eshé had been asking her for a sip at every single reception, and each time she'd serve the same reply. 

However this time, the young girl stopped the game here, instead gazing up at her friend with her wide amber eyes and mouthing: 

"I need to talk to you!" 

A'edeh straightened from the curved stance she'd adopted to listen to the girl, blinked a few times, and excused herself from her friends. They moved to another room painted in gold this time; the music was a low thumping sound that sent vibrations through the earth wall. The violent light of the setting sun illuminated the walls, and their two silhouettes, in vibrant hues of orange and red. 

"I need you to get Tasha drunk," Eshé proudly announced, slamming twenty rupees in A'edeh's palm. 

The eldest counted the green crystals carefully, several times, in case Eshé had fiddled her – which had to say the truth already happened more than once. 

"Why'd you need that for?" she asked, raising her head and slipping the stuff in the pocket of her orange pantaloons. 

"Revenge." smirked Eshé, and the reason was accepted with no trouble at all by A'edeh, because revenge was a totally valid motivation to cause trouble, really. 

She clapped a wide, callous hand on the youngest's back, and they both left the room. 

Now she had the Tasha issue out of the way – and _no_, she didn't feel a guilty – Eshé only needed food and water. She'd easily find breads and fruits at the buffet, as well as bottles of water; and of course, dried beef. She even had a small bag perfectly fit to contain all the provisions she'd swipe: so she danced her way to the main room, avoiding guests – the Three first Families to have answered the Calling had gathered, according to the tradition – and not going too near to the loud orchestras disseminated about the reception.

She was going along fine, unnoticed by all, until she bumped along two tall – rah, they were all in league to make her feel small, that was it, wasn't it? – slender girls. Golden eyes scanned her quickly through thick fringes of scarlet hair, she saw wrists move about in an expression of courteous delight, gems jingling from the bracelets on their knuckles. More were dangling from the bottom of vermillion, embroidered pantaloons. Their eyes were heavily lined with kohl, too heavily for her own taste in fact. They were Mara and Fara, Tasha's two twin cousins of the Second Family. 

"You look like a mess, Eshé-dearest," started one – she didn't know which – in a chanting common speech. That was what they had to use to converse, because dialects varied greatly between families and it was the only way to be understood. 

"Was grey around your eyes supposed to be kohl? You tried to take it off?" asked the other one, and Eshé had to strain to understand her above the noise, scrunching her face up. 

"I think I'm allergic to makeup," she replied. 

"Oh, that's a shame,' the first one said.

The second continued: 

"A face as original as yours needs a lot of makeup." 

Not knowing whether the concealed insult was meant or not, the young girl tried to step around them, half-vexed half-confused by the ambient cacophony. But one of the twins called her back:

"You wouldn't refuse us a dance, would you?" 

Eshé silently cursed, using and abusing of her favorite insult, and turned back to face Mara and Fara, whose slanted eyes were fixing her like a constellation of stars. Behind them women danced and women laughed in a enormous merrymaking under the prancing lights of the enchanted fires of her people. Tradition dictated you could not refuse an invitation to dance; it was too much of an insult, and in normal circumstances she'd have rushed to answer the demand: it was the only physical activity she had done it weeks! But this wasn't normal circumstances, she thought ruefully: freedom was just a few nabs of food away, and... and...

Suddenly, the twin wearing a violet gemstone on her forehead exclaimed: 

"You father sends his apologies, he cannot see you tonight but will be with you tomorrow!" 

Eshé froze. Her father! Her father, her father, her dear father, she'd forgotten him! Guilt crashed down on her. No, she hadn't forgotten him, she'd just buried the very thought of him because like talking with Tasha, it would make her waver. She was shutting them all out, erasing their presence. 

The young girl grinned. 

"I thank you for the information, cousin of beloved-friend,' and she added, courteously as she had been taught: 'and... I will gladly join you for the dance!" 

Soon she was lost in a sea of nude and pierced stomachs. Waves of sound crashed on her numb ears and wide smiles jumped to her face like frightful rows of fangs; she saw flashes of golden jewelry, the enormous hoop earrings her people favored tugging ears here and there, many piercings also commonly adored reflecting light into her mesmerized irises; she heard whispered gossips and less than half-veiled insults, compliments of varying sincerity and tipsy laughs and hiccups; she smelled the scent of her people, of harissa chilly and perspiration, jasmine and mint, alcohol, pepper, lilac perfume; she melted into the throng and danced on their single common heartbeat because the same instinct guided them all, because their ancestors had danced that way and their descendants would perpetuate the tradition; she rubbed herself along smooth backs and brushed along slender legs concealed in silk pantaloons, she was tickled, assaulted, solicited by the crowd but so alone, so ignored, and then...

She was outside.

The bunch of women stopped behind her. Here was the buffet, on the edge of the wide ballroom; a sculpted, stone indoors balcony overshadowed it and slanted archways separated it from the rest of the area. She was protected from most of the drunken glances the misty minds would have the idea to shoot at her.

Eshé started nabbing the food that could be preserved and stuffing it in small boxes she'd taken along with the bag, wildly eating from others plates with her fingers and filling herself on all sorts of desserts; after all she had a sweet tooth! Almond and pistachio pastries, dates, oh how she loved those; caramelized nuts, honey rolls and dry cookies, mint leaves, dried fruits, and almonds again, she was ravenous. The scents entranced and excited her, she was obsessed, obsessed with them!

But soon she had to leave, puffing out her cheek and sticking out her bottom lip in teary disappointment, and bid a dramatic farewell to the food of her people.

It was then the thought of her father really struck home.

She hesitating in front of the corridor leading to the library and to the stables, heart in her mouth. She had to see him one last time. But that meant going back the way she'd come, risking suspicion because of her bag, risking to meet Tasha, Mara and Fara! 

Her palms were sweaty but she whirled around and left the deserted buffet area, stealthily sticking to the sides of the room and away from the main dancing area; she hid behind columns and reached a small door on the right wall, opening it hurriedly and slamming it shut – and it was the only one she hadn't thought of that stopped her. 

"She's drunk!' loudly proclaimed A'edeh, hiccuping. Her brown eyes were feverish but her baritone bark was heard even over the music. A few women shot them curious honeyed peeks, and Eshé cowered in the shadow of the threshold, scowling. 'I don't ever think... that she'll remember... remember it was me!" 

She pointed back to a couch on the right hand side, concealed in the shadow of the balcony that ran around the whole room. Eshé's breath caught hoarsely in her throat and she clumsily coughed. Tasha was splayed on it, eyes closed and looking _sick _and _sad_, red hair usually so neat spread in a scarlet tangle around her thin cat's face, like it'd been spread around her own head when she'd cried in the stables earlier that day...

"Goodbye, Tasha,' she whispered.

And then grinned: 'Thaaaanks Ae', thanks a lot!"

Quiiick, get outta here, Stalfos spit.

The woman nodded and threw herself back into the dance, squashing one of the twins who emitting a shrill sort of shrieky voice. The other one rushed to her aid, scarlet bangs bobbing about, but not before shooting Eshé a piercing look. The young girl shivered, finally slamming the door shut. She shut the image of Tasha out, and the emotions, and the tears, boldly blocking everything from the front of her mind. She'd deal with that later...

The music throbbed through the wood like her frenzied heartbeat.

She was in a dark, earthy servants' staircase. It climbed away into the somber air, fading into nothingness. Eshé excitedly skittered up the steps, reaching a landing and slamming her face – a bit too hard – on the wall to her right. There was a hole just big enough for her eye, and she could see...

The room, elevated from the main reception, was perfectly peaceful and silent apart from the murmur of polite conversation. An soft orchestra played opposite from Eshé – two flutes from elegantly dressed women, who were on the whole much more covered than those merrymaking downstairs.

Her father was at the head of a dish laden, rectangular table of rare mahogany wood, carved at the edges. To his right – Eshé's left – the Zora ambassador, Lady Rutola. She was a woman of great but fishy beauty, dressed in soft gray and brilliant white, ample robes and wearing pearled, opalescent jewelry. In front of her, this time to Eshé's right and her father's left, the Hylian envoy, Lord Zayine, a handsome, young man the young girl knew to be an opportunistic and cunning lad. He'd deftly hefted himself up all the levels of his kingdom's diplomacy, overtaking more experienced rivals with his quick wit and charming words.

Next in line, offering a rough shell of a back to Eshé, was the Goron representative: Lady Gon Daronga. She wore something of a thick, dark fabric, to resist the tears her rocks could offer, but the young spy couldn't see much of her apart from that.

Maybe, also, because she was focused on her father...

He was a tall, proud man; with a neatly trimmed, short beard, discerning and gentle brown eyes; coppery hair and sharp features. His wide-cut and colorful robes fell of his wide shoulders like the sun from the sky when it set; the cloth hovered along the same hues that could be gazed upon at that time of the day.

Her heart tightened; she was sweating. It was the last time she'd see him, the last time that... What would he think? _"Have you ever thought, even a single moment, what you put your father through?" _But what was she putting him through? Would he be scared, would he hurt?

The man politely smiled, flashing a perfect row of white teeth at a joke of Zayine's. She cried.

And silently tumbled back down the stairs, satchel tucked tight underneath her arm, not glancing back.

The way back to the stables was covered without any notable incident. She paused, then, in the room where she'd naively tried to take Darof out just a couple of hours ago, when Tasha had come to get her, when... Her head twirled exhaustively as the evening's emotion crashed back on her, and she took a deep breath, a deep breath of hay, of horse, of poop and of fresh, outside, night air, and opened her eyes to find them dry.

"I'm going to realize my dream like Link!" she fiercely whispered.

Darof whinnied softly, gently thrusting his muzzle at her, deep brown eyes – so like her father's, she suddenly thought – gazing into her amber ones.

"I'm going to live!" she caressed his charcoal face.

And softly saddled him, putting her smaller satchel, the one containing her food, in the bigger bag, and hanging that all on his hot flank. She'd promised she'd live, and she would, it was just moments away now. The image of Tasha, drunken sick on the couch, came back to her, and she touched her own hair as if she could still feel the traces of her friend's bloody streaks, clenching her fist tight around her curls...

She thought of her father, she thought of her friend, and of A'edeh, and of all those would had loved her and that she loved back, and allowed herself one, painful wheeze of a sob.

Then she led Darof out of his box, and strangely he complied, as if sensing it was the right time, that there was no choice but to go forward and certainly not return. This time she turned left, unlocked a wide, wooden door – the guards must be merrymaking, how surprising really – and pulled her proud stallion out into the night world.

A mischievous breeze came tugging at her mane of dark forks, that really didn't need the disturbance, like they all said... And Eshénadoru crossed a few steps of rocky soil, to climb on Darof, and stare at the glittering lights of the city and the castle, that would soon be behind her.

"I'm alive," she whispered.

/o\

**Well, oops, there it goes, you heard about Link.  
Buuut, you know nothing about him.  
Buuut, you can't guess about how he'll come into play.  
Buuut, is he really a hero?  
Ha.  
Stay tuned!**


	2. The Tourist

**Right guys, I'm actually feeling motivated! Seeing the stats for the fic really lightened up my mood, yup. Thanks to my first viewers, haha!**

**And if you feel like reviewing, please don't hesitate, I've been devoting a lot of time for this fic so like any other author I'd appreciate, if you devoted on your part, just a few seconds. xD**

**Hope you enjoy !  
Alice**

/o\

Lake Hylia was the jewel of Hyrule, the apple of its eye, where the enchanted families of all races all across its wide world flocked to for well earned summer vacations. Well, the ones who could afford it. But that was of course just a detail.

The dancing water of its main resting place and tributaries was kept clean by the proud Empire of the Zora, and they themselves still flowed freely through their ancestral grounds. Because if Lake Hylia was touristic, it was also a great religious lieu for them: Qianshenmiao'gu, the valley of a thousand temples.

Nobody quite knew, if there were a thousand; the dark, steepest slopes of the lakes where they rested, in their nacre, opalescent beauty, was fiercely guarded against adventurous foreigners and no soul other than Zora had penetrated there in centuries. It was said, amongst the shrewd inhabitants of the lakeside, that an intruder would be cursed by the terrible fish-men for a hundred generations.

Or at least that was what they told tourists.

Not that tourists visited every village, of course.

There was three main communities on the sunny, pebble-strewn and well-washed shores of the water: Severn, Ousebourg, and Gollsville.

The first was an establishment of eleven thousand souls, the biggest, on the Northern Slopes of Hylia. The charming, peaceful village occupied the round strip of land circled by River Zora and the lake respectively; its boastful pride was a magnificent waterfall and its boat craft. Fifteen minutes away East from it – in carriage of course – was an old, dank cave said to have been inhabited by a great spirit in elder times: of course, naive tourists ventured there with their questionable guides – swindlers – to buy blessed amulets – who very blessedly never worked – from profiteer hawkers.  
The village heavily relied on the summer period for income, and on fishing; they couldn't do much else because as they were positioned North, the sun rarely reached them, thus they had a great difficulty to grow vines and crops. It was generally accepted, amongst the other inhabitants of the lake, that their wine was as sour as their women.

Ousebourg on the other hand was a village of smiling, round faced locals, who lived jovially, drank a lot, and generally held festivities for every occasion that served as sufficient justification. Their houses were positioned high up the rolling, grassy hills of the Western side of the lake, and they used the pollen-gorged breeze that flew to them for their elaborately painted windmills. The seven thousand men, women and children were winemakers since more generations than any could remember, exporting their prestigious vintage to the biggest capitals of the kingdom; their vines surrounded their families and dwellings as much as their narrow minds. As such they were reputed to be slightly challenged, obtuse souls by the inhabitants of the other villages, and 'stubborn as an Ouse' was an expression that had been used since before what most grannies could reckon.

Then came the third community, Gollsville. It was a small village of indomitable Golls that still, held out against the invaders! Three thousand and a few peanuts, they occupied the Southern islands of Hylia and lived half-in the water, half-out: some even said they had Zora ancestry. They were the most prideful, self-righteous lake-dwellers of all: their wine was allegedly the best, their waters the most plentiful; they cooked the best food, slept in the best houses, fathered the best children and impregnated the best mothers – not necessarily in that order – and of course they were the best of all. The Golls spoke the Goll, a dying dialect that had thrived around the lake before the arrival of Hylians in Hyrule; they refused to learn common speech as a first language and demanded their independence to the king; after all, they were the most ancient, so there!

Of course, these ridiculous requests had never been followed through, and they had become the laughing stock of the lake-dwellers. It was even whispered, though never too loudly, amongst them, that the Gollsvillians – or Gollsvillains, no pun intended of course – had become dumb due to the lack of fresh genes in their pool and intro-family marriage. The horrifying truth shocked all, and a courageous group of concerned Ousebourg housewives, the Desperate Ousewives, had even decided to send out a salvaging mission to redeem the savages. But they had yet to find the one amongst them willing to sacrifice themselves for their just cause and ideal of peace.

This vibrant, sunny environment of incongruous villages, is where the adventure of Arven Alethea Seymour starts.

But before we speak of her, we must first speak two peculiar beings that, unknowingly to her, had followed her on her journey – that shall not be recounted here – to the lakeside. They were currently huddled outside the inn where she was lodged for the night, a wide stone dwelling choked by ivy and honeysuckle; and supported by thick, dark wooden beams. And those beings were... Candid Crook and Angela Fell.

The dry night air was resting, with no breeze to disturb the cool particles that gave all living beings the means to survive. The sky was cloudy, but stars could be seen peeking here and there from behind the misty, transcendent nebulae, protectively covering the world with the inky sheets on which they rested. Crickets creaked their mysterious calls from the surroundings of the villages, the sounds drifting unevenly to the ears of the queer pair that was flattened against the stones of the inn, nostrils assaulted by the sickly sweet smell of flowers. Between them was an open window, wooden shutters greeting the night air with their massive bulk.

On the other side of that window, slept Arven, completely oblivious of the threat that Faltwin had weighed on her, completely oblivious even to the existence of Faltwin; but that wasn't the primary concern of the two.

They were _hungry! _They hadn't eaten for a full day, instead painfully running after the ride their target had hitched and killing their poor little dainty feet in the process, hiding in the shadows like Sheikah ninjas but failing to steal any crumbs from their prey's leftovers. They were _exhausted_, the poor souls.

Stealthily penetrating Arven's dark and dangerous lair, was their only hope to fill their bellies for this day and the next. The two locked gazes, and it was the Angelawho spoke first:

"You go, Candid!"

She wore the same pink and white, frilly princess gown than a week ago, and it seemed to hinder her movements more than anything – it was a wonder she'd managed to run the entire day. Her usually innocent, girly expression at the moment looked more demonic than anything, it had to be said, but the traits still remained. However... she was currently scarlet red with anger.

"Please Angela, go instead!" Candid whispered in a terrified tone.

A week since they'd stolen the Blessed Flowers from the Faltwin HQ, and he was so tired his skin was as white as death itself. His pale robes didn't help much, making him look like a frightened specter more than anything else.

Around both of their necks, hanging down to their waists, were two glittering vermillion gems.

"I'm certainly _not _going in that room! It's your fault we're here in the first place, it's your job to get us out!"

In the face of these, it has to be admitted, very sound arguments, Candid stammered, stuttered, babbled a bit in a high pitched voice – silenced by a scary "_shhhh!_" from his partner – before protesting more quietly:

"B-b-but it's a _girl's room!_"

Suddenly a loud yawn silenced the two, and the face of raven-haired, tired girl appeared at the window.

"Can you please be silent, I am attempting to sleep!"

And without another word she turned away and dreamily drifted back to her bed, in front of the two, frozen-still, chilled bandits.

Arven had been awakened by furious whispering just outside her window. To tell the truth, she hadn't really been sleeping; instead she had been fantasizing about her handsome-to-die-for guardian, Shady, and imagining the two of them on the shores of Lake Hylia by the setting sun, him getting down on one knee and declaring his undying love for her with his gorgeous, sensuous voice, gazing up at her with his soulful ruddy eyes...

And that was the point when she had really noticed the two out of her window. She hadn't bothered to try understanding their conversation, instead blearily asking them to silence themselves, and... then floated back to her white sheets and didn't remember much more.

The pair outside stayed struck-dumb until gentle snores tickled their ears.

Then Angela's stomach furiously roared and Candid found himself painfully falling on his chin, crashing down from a majestic kick in the butt in front of Arven's bed. There was a great booming collision and he tearfully held his breath, rubbing his numb body parts and his thighs with his hands as he prayed that girl would not wake... But she just let out a great snort, mumbled something in her sleep that sounded very suspiciously like 'Shady, ohh, Shadyy...', and shifted position.

Relief made him tremble and almost convert himself to the Goddess of Sand. But instead he thanked the Holy Sisters and carefully sat up, eyes wandering to the sleeping girl in front of him. His breath caught in his throat.

She was, to say it simply, beautiful.

Heavy black lashes rested – like fallen moth wings, he impulsively thought – on her pale, but healthy cheeks; crow black hair lay splayed on her white pillow and lips of a vibrant hue of red waited under her straight nose. She had a thin, oval face like his, but her's wasn't shallow and hungry-looking: it was agreeable and elegant, aristocratic even. Everything about her inspired him the need to protect her, with her frail beauty, she looked like a fallen angel – much more than his partner whose named was based of the holy envoys – with a failing halo.

He was reaching a trembling hand out to ease a streak of her ebony hair that had tangled itself with her lashes, when Angela raucously called:

"Come on, we don't have all day!"

_But it's nighttime!_ he retained himself from replying. Instead he tiptoed around the room, almost crying out in shock in front of the stuffed and terrified muzzle of a moose – those countryside people really had barbaric traditions – and finally finding a half eaten loaf of big, brown and sturdy bread, and two apples, inside a woolen bag.

But he was also searching for something else, he reminded himself. He silently sifted through the room, heart is his mouth, approaching the delicate, sleeping form of the girl and gently opening a small bag on her nightstand... no. The necklace wasn't there. He took a step back, innocently asking himself where it could be, then, if it wasn't on the small table, before flushing when strange possibilities entered his mind. He didn't once think, that a necklace could be simply hung around one's neck.

He scurried back to his partner, food tucked under his arm, butt still red and throbbing from her kick.

/o\

A playful breeze whistled across the rippling surface of the lake. It originated in the lands of the North, far up the source of River Zora; sung its way down the mountain to merrily brush the nacre foam of the waves, and tumble and topple down waterfalls, reaching Severn and blowing on the alleged fickle hearts of its inhabitants; sailing across the lake and far above the thousand temples who glowed in curious lights, finally reaching Gollsville, and consequently...

Shady the Sheikah's – also – open window.

Said person, was a young man barely in his twenties, with a three days' beard he often scratched and a stuffed up nose – that made him snore. He bore his people's traditional red-toned eyes, which made him look a bit off; and the washed away hair he had also inherited from his ancestors certainly didn't help, the snowy color giving him a perpetually tired look. Though it was to be said, Shady, unlike most Sheikah, didn't need that particular feature to make him look exhausted.

Because the young man had a huge flaw: he was to say the least plagued by a terrible, incurable laziness.

He was perpetually sleepy man, his ruffled longish hair and half buttoned shirts making him look like a hardcore flirt, when in reality he was very, very far from that – it was much too tiring. In fact the young man's ambition in life was to sleep, sleep, sleep and sleep some more, and he dreamed – as you can see he had a lot of time to – of sleeping a whole week without interruption.

But sadly he was a part of a very famous Sheikah family, and as all his relatives had done, it was his task to protect an important person of Hyrule. So he'd been hired by Arven's adoptive father to watch over her and guard her through the many perils of life, including cumbersome boys, poisonous school lessons – though for the highly intelligent girl that wasn't a problem – and potentially dangerous things like Moblins, evil necromancers, and life-changing, bothersome prophecies of the Goddesses.

However Shady wasn't doing a very good job. He knew the girl since she was ten – nearly five years ago, such a long time – but it'd be mostly her who had protected him since them, from being fired no less. His very ambitious family would have thought very bad of him, and he'd have been kicked out, how terrible. It wouldn't have bothered the young man, except that he would have had to give up on his plush bed, satin sheets and feathered pillow – and that was asking too much of him.

This brings us back, to the present situation, where the breeze entered Shady's room, ruffled his white hair from were he lay, splayed out across his white sheets, pillow fallen to the ground since the middle of the night... The scene could have been peaceful, except that at the same time as the breeze, Arven stormed in.

"It's already six o'clock!' she cried crossly, flinging all his blankets to the floor and leaving him shivering in the cold. 'We have lessons to revise and magic exercises to do! Get u-"

Arven suddenly turned crimson when she saw that her guardian only wore a black boxer, his chest completely bare with nothing to separate it from her transfixed gaze. Shady blearily looked up at her with half-lidded, sleepy eyes and murmured:

"'Mornin' Oyster..."

He watched the red on the girl's cheeks brutally double in intensity.

"D-d-do not call me like that,' she stuttered, swiftly spinning around to face the old, massive wooden closet. 'And do get dressed please."

There was some sloppy attempt to shift, then silence. After a few minutes, Arven turned around to find that Shady fallen asleep while pulling his white linen shirt his head. She sucked in a breath, still completely scarlet, and crossed the wooden floor towards the Sheikah. The crow-haired girl hesitated; hesitated, then finished the job her guardian hadn't had the strength to do, slipping the rough clothe on his square shoulders and down to his waist.

Then she swiftly strode out of the room and shut the door behind her, heart slamming against her chest, and sunk to a sitting position on the ground.

Shady smiled, his plan to divert his young charge having perfectly succeeded, and this time, really sunk back into a deep sleep.

Like most young girls, Arven had had an impossible crush: in this case her lazy bodyguard. His sleepy smiles, his mysterious coming and goings on some important, shady – no pun intended – business, had since as long as she could remember intrigued and impressed her; and when her body had started to develop more feminine forms and hormones had flushed her mind with hazy attraction and her cheeks with scarlet, she'd found she was falling in love with him. His effortless magnetism, his everything, charmed and endeared her, but he'd never let the young girl by six years his cadet into his world; the man seemed to know everything about her but the interaction wasn't reciprocated, it drove her nuts.

She lost everything, her manners, her facade, in front of him, she was spiritually naked, but he retained the same blurry distance he'd always had, serving her a smile and calling her Oyster, then vanishing into some unknown place... And probably also kissing an unknown pair of lips... she became desperate every time she thought of that! But how could she, barely into teenage hood, attract a handsome man like him who could very well get any woman he wanted into his bed...? She flushed berry red when she thought of that, and quickly averted her eyes, as if the scene was taking place right in front of her, to observe the corridor she was in.

Shady and her had been lodged in separate chambers, much to her disappointment – she'd chosen the inn because it'd seemed so small that it _should _have had only one guestroom, but nooo, the house had surprised her with more space than she'd originally thought – he was on the second floor, and her firmly anchored on the ground.

The hallway she'd crumbled in was dark, after all it was only dawn. The floor was made off bold wooden planks who unevenly connected in a manner worthy of a stormy sea; framing that were stone walls on which a few family portraits were hung, including one of the current owners, a muscled man in his fifties with a big brown mustache – Mr. Hatestourix – and a round, energetic and freckled redhead – Mrs. Hatestourix. Two doors lined the stonework in front of her, and another was set to her left; another ways further than those was a wide, open window stifled by ivy. Through it she could see the dawn sky, but nothing else as she was sat too low to be able to contemplate much.

Arven sighted, and, seeing as her secret love wouldn't be awakened as easily as she had initially planned, prepared herself for a long wait.

/o\

Outside, the two peculiar bandits Angela and Candid had awakened from a fitful and ironically tiring sleep. They had rested in the long, vibrant green grasses that grew between the backside of the inn and the shore of the small island it was built on; the turf was springy and fairly comfortable, but Candid, being scared silly of spiders and other creepers, had stayed awake all night for fear of finding them in his long river of hair in the morning. When his exhaustion had finally taken over, pushing his unhealthily circled eyes closed, Angela had wrestled against it for control: she thrashed about so much in her sleep that at around five o'clock, she'd kicked him – once again in the butt, poor him – on the shore and into the lake.

Thus when Angela awoke around three hours later, a little ruffled but rested, Candid was shivering uncontrollably, looking dejected and smelling wet dog. She yawned and stretched, blond curls bouncing about, before disgustedly sniffing the air and finding the source of the smell, proceeding to kick him back in the water:

"Don't you ever _wash_, Candid?"

When the azure-haired man had finally dragged out himself out of the lake, he gasped:

"I think I saw a Blessed Flower..."

Leaving Angela to snap back:

"Don't be ridiculous Candy, flowers don't grow underwater. There aren't even any Blessed Butterflies around!"

"But Angee-"  
"No buts!"  
"But Angee-"  
_"I SAID NO BUTS!" _the blond woman frightfully screeched.

She whacked her partner on the head, and hotly continued: "You're the one who got us into this mess, so you're not allowed to say buts!"  
"But that's completely unrelated-"  
_"YOU JUST SAID BUT!" _

__

She glowered at him with her khol-lined electric blue eyes, and he clamped his mouth shut. It was, to put things simply, the best thing to do when Angela was angry. And she was right, he was the one who'd dragged her into this mess...

Well, at least they just needed to follow this noble girl from the Castleton academy, and steal all her jewelry when the occasion presented itself... Piece of cake!

"I think we need to report."

Angela's slightly-less-cross voice ripped his daydream apart, and he looked at her with fearful grey eyes.

"But- but we have nothing to say!' he stammered: and it was true, they'd hadn't. N.I hadn't liked failures, and Faltwin didn't seem to either.

"Yes we do," the woman replied hotly. 

"Angee, I didn't find anything in the room!"

"Well that's already something to report!"

"But... But..."  
_"NO BUTS!"_

Seeming to have run out of things to voice after the well-worn objection, Candid nodded. He trusted Angela, she was much smarter than him, she'd find a way out.

They pressed their scarlet pendants, Angela with narrowed eyes and the young man with wide, glistening ones. He sincerely hoped they'd find the gem soon: if it wasn't in her bag, where was it?

/o\

Noon came... and went, without Shady doing so much as stirring. He was lightly snoring, his pillow squashed against his face, protecting it from the outside sunlight, and saliva starting to stain the underside of it – Goddesses knew how he even managed to do that.

His white sheets were still tangled around the feet on his wide, two-person bead, but he wasn't cold, chest thankfully protected by the shirt Arven had slipped on him, and bottoms covered by boxers. The day was moreover of those hot, dry, summer ones where the sun only set at ten o'clock and the bees came home mandibles satisfyingly stuffed with pollen, where drifted an air of vacation and childish adventure and where friends gathered and family arrived with smiling faces and sausages.

Hmm, sausages. How he loved those...!

The thought made his stomach loudly rumble and he shifted for the first time in hours, rolling on his side to face the open window... and sadly pushing his pillow-protection of his face, offering his closed pupils to the cruel light of the sun's rays. The Sheikah moaned, trying to resist to the luminous intruder, but soon his eyelids were opening – against his will, it was to be noted... Was this a rebellion? _No_, answered a voice from some faraway and deeply buried part of his mind, _it is a Revolution . _He was gazing upon the brave new world, more precisely a nightstand, one meter or so of wooden floor, and said evil culprit of his awakening: the window.

It took a few minutes for his mind to clear enough for him to sit up; then, he sloppily stood, nonchalantly plodding to the wide closet on his left where he had stuffed his bag the night before. The doors opened silently, and there it was, in all its worn, stained splendor, his trusty brown travel satchel, that'd lived many, many adventures... In it was a wide, drifting pair of dark pants he slipped on and tied to his waist.

Then, the young man cast a bleary glance at the window, which offered him a beautiful view of the glittering, stark blue lake and of the distant, rolling fields that faded into the nothingness of the bright horizon on the opposite side of it; and turned towards the door.

When he opened it, he found that Arven had fallen asleep in on the threshold. on the hard, wooden floor, and stayed still, a bit shocked.

He felt an instinctive surge of protection, and affection for her, for her frail body, so small in her floating nightgown, for her tangled, crow-black hair and her almost mourning but unconscious expression. She seemed sad, and it surprised him at the same time as it angered him a little, an emotion that rarely crossed his heart.

Shady cared for Arven. It rarely surfaced, but deeply buried with him was an attentive and kind soul; the girl had become more than a simple business or responsibility, she was now, his friend, his little oyster – though the origins of that particular nickname were better off not mentioned. She had grown on him, little by little; he had learned much about her, the solitary, smart girl, to be able to read in her even when she couldn't in herself; he knew, all the little details that made Arven Arven, all those things he had come to enjoy and expect.

Thus Shady could tell when the young girl was lying. Thus Shady cared, when she didn't look all too well.

He frowned unhappily and bent to pick her up, easily holding the small body in his arms.

She slowly batted her eyelids open, reddening immediately when she noticed her position, curved against his strong and warm body. He poured his ruddy gaze, into her blue one, and noticed with a surprising tenderness the grey specks around the edges of her widened irises.

She struggled against his grip, and though he had originally planned to carry her to her room, he gently let go of her – it's after all a very tired business to battle a member of the feminine kind.

"That must have been a very uncomfortable bed, Oyster," he commented when she landed safely on her feet, not letting a hint of his past emotions filter through his voice.

She blushed even more and he naively wondered why, reverie interrupted by an acid:

"Well it is your fault, Shady! What kind of a guardian are you if I am the one that has to wake you up?"

He scratched his growing beard, noticing with a growing concern he would have to shave it soon, trying to recall when was the last time he had done so.

"Care for a breakfast?" he sleepily asked, giving up on the mental effort and thinking that maybe, warm food would wake him up.

Arven acquiesced, telling herself she'd never get an answer to her question, cheeks returning to a normal color, muttering things he didn't bother to try comprehending. He drifted down the stairs after her, saying:

"I hope they don't serve oyster."

The girl stumbled in the stairs, embarrassment making her trip over her own feet. She stiffly strode to her room and crossly shut herself inside, leaving Shady to conclude that he really shouldn't abuse of his favorite nickname. Inside, Arven was changing herself, having trouble with the buttons of her undershirt; she was quivering with shame, at the memory of the reason why she'd earned the nickname in the first place – though as was said previously it is better off unknown. The same breeze as earlier in the morning drifted through her still open window, carrying the smell of flowers and summer, and stirring the hair atop her head with a motherly sigh.

She tied her crow-colored hair back in a high ponytail, then, left the room.

Shady had apparently already gone down to breakfast, and she tumbled down the stairs, feeling ticked off. Welcoming her, was a wide, cool room. The floor was made of reddish, square stone tiles, the walls of the same sturdy material, but in grey tones. Supporting the ceiling were wide, strong beams of wood; probably of those kinds growing in the forests of the South. A wide fireplace, where ashes of the last winter still lay waiting, took up an entire corner of the room; in another, under a stuffed, snarling Wolfos, was waiting a high mahogany table.

Shady was sat around it, discussing with Mrs. Hatestourix, sunlight streaming through a window to the left illuminating their sides in golden.

The stout redhead was laughing in the strange way the Golls laughed, carrot-colored hair tied back behind her head in two high but practical piggy-tails. She wore a white and red plaid apron that descended about to her knees; it scrunched in rough folds around her thighs when she leaned towards the table and loudly whispered something to Shady in a secretive tone, casting a good-humored glance at Arven.

The young girl crossly sat down at the head of the table furthest away from the pair, as Shady smiled good-naturally, and turned towards her.

"I was just telling Madam about the inhumane hours you've been trying to wake me up at," he said earnestly, a dreamy look on his face.

She reddened – for the hundredth time this morning – and replied grouchily:

"Well _someone _has to worry about actually accomplishing the business we are on."

"Oh come along Miss Arven, no business is worth waking up at six in the morning," justly intervened the manageress, shaking her head.

"That's also what I think," wisely nodded Shady.

Arven scowled even more, huddling in her wide wooden chair; and several things happened at once. The first event, of lesser importance, was Candid, posted outside the window, sneezing on the pollen the wind carried, earning a piercing glance of Shady – he was sure he'd heard something towards that human-shaped cluster of ivy over there, but what...? – and a violent smack on the back of the head from Angela. The second event was Mr. Hatestourix coming up from the cellar with a bottle of alcohol. He was a sort of massive, beefy man, almost the double of his short wife's height – he could have rivaled A'edeh, if only he knew her – and permanently harboring the expression that was currently painted across Arven's face. Thus the edges of his wide, drooping mustache were wrinkled with displeasure, and the fact he often squinted because of his need – and lack – of glasses didn't help the lines around his eyes.

Mrs. Hatestourix addressed him in their local dialect:

"Tu peux passer la gnôle Gégé? J'vais leur faire un p'tit canard!' the man acquiesced, setting the bottle down on the table with an echoing _clink, _and turned silently towards the door, causing his wife to add: 'Où tu vas?"

"Chez Jacques."

And without another word he shut the door. He definitely wasn't talkative.

Her husband gone, Mrs. Hatestourix took the bottle, uncorking it and pouring some of its clear, amber liquid into Shady's coffee, then her's. The Sheikah took a sip and paled significantly, coughing a bit while the round woman asked conversationally:

"If it's not to indiscreet, might I ask on what business you come to Gollsville? Foreigners aren't frequent in this part of the lake."

Shady nodded, reddish eyes glinting, and bent forward as if to share a secret with the lady, however whispering loud enough for Arven to hear:

"We are participating in the Castleton Academy's M.D.P, Magical Discovery Program, which implies we travel all around the region for magic duels, but... our _special _business, is that this young miss' father sent us to look for a future husband."

Much to Shady's horror, Arven's scowl deepened to abysses he would never have thought possible to reach, deforming her beautiful face into some sort gorgon's maw, ruby eyes, shining fangs and all that. Mrs. Hatestourix looked at the girl critically, holding back a 'well, she could use some more smiling in that case'.

And instead adding:

"Well, talking about husbands, I don't think you'll find anyone well enough for her here."

Shady watched her nonchalantly, and Arven's face reverted to normal. The woman stood up, having finished her coffee – Shady hadn't touched it since the first sip – and went to the kitchen, only separated from the living room by a wide marble counter. She put the previous meal's leftover on the fire, stirring the beef stew, which was giving off a powerful, hearty aroma.

"You see, I'm not a native to Gollsville, I come from a little ways to the South, a village in the Hyrule fields. But I've been living here for twenty years, I certainly know what I'm talking about."

She left the large wooden spoon she'd used in the the steel cauldron, then proceeded to cleaning the kitchen with a plaid dishcloth the same colors as her apron. Shady asked, scratching his beard: 

"And what might that be?"

"Well unless you want a retarded hillbilly for you noble lass, don't come here."

Then they were served, and the lady departed to clean their room, upstairs. Arven was as fuming as here plate, but when Shady asked her what was going on, she replied, 'nothing'. With a pinched, lemon-eater look, but nothing nonetheless. To tell the truth she didn't know why she was angry, it was a mix of oyster memories, the fact the exasperatingly charismatic Sheikah seemed to have the better pieces of meat in his stew, or maybe that after a full week of crisscrossing the countryside and hitching rides with the random folks kind enough to take them in their carriages – Shady had never owned a horse and found it too tiring to learn to ride one now – she was _exhausted_.

It didn't seem like this town would reveal anything of capital importance either.

It was a _stupid little village_ on the side of a _stupid little lake _that didn't hold any interest to her, apart from the fact, that she had to travel Hyrule for the M.D.P! It infuriated her, she felt _angry_, for Din's sake! Because... she also had to travel, to find a husband! And her only chance at being a free woman, and deciding her life for herself, was to win the M.D.P's prize: enough money for her to be financially independent, and free herself from her adoptive father's influence. He was, after all, very rich: the director of the Castleton Academy... And she _hated_-

"Maybe we can go pack our bags and you can have a swim in the lake?" Shady suggested innocently, irises however looking very far from his naive tone. He had seen the young girl's anger, and didn't like it – it could potentially endanger his hours of sleep – they would skip searching this village if needed... and that would also get him more time to rest. 

Arven stood up, having finished her stew, and seeing nothing better to do snapped back: 

"Oh, yes, why not."

Not knowing, the many consequences that would ensue this decision. Not knowing, that Shady's suggestion had started what would become the adventure of her life...

/o\

The first night, Eshé had been completely drunken, with her freedom; she'd felt the rush of the wind and the pumping of Darof's muscles beneath her saddle; she'd seen the immensity of the desert, of her land, and she'd thought that she had as many possibilities for her future as the grain of sands that carpeted her her home. She was thrilled, terrified but thrilled, and she made promises to Darof and murmured sweet words in his ears and caressed his flanks as he ran, as she left everything behind; she'd felt so light, so unburdened.

The second day, when she woke up, she'd noted she had she still didn't know the number of possible futures she had, but she certainly had as much mosquitoes bites as the sand grains. 

She'd also observed she was dead thirsty and hungry, and sore, that the sun was almost deforming the air and that everything was so dry it felt her throat had been branded with iron, and she felt a sort of rolling nausea. It might also be interesting to mention there was nothing for miles around her and even if she'd wanted to go back, she would just have ended up a hundred times more lost.

But that did nothing to deter the courageous girl, she wanted to see the world and she would, not just the scraggly thorn bushes that were so small they only offered shade to her second little toe!

So for a week, she'd ridden on Darof. Shared with him the few resources she had. Rode, rode, rode, rode, rode, rode, rode, rode, rode, it was always the same, rode some more...

The seventh day she'd reached the edge of the desert.

It stopped so suddenly that they almost fell off the plunging cliff, but she pulled back Darof in time, though that didn't stop her from tumbling down the horse and smacking herself face-first into the scorching sand.

When she'd managed to stand up again after many, many pathetic attempts, she couldn't believe her eyes_._

__

"... I'm on top of the world!" she'd whispered.

Below Eshé was by her standards an _ocean_. The cliffs plunged down to a kilometer or so of grassy hills, something she'd never seen with her eyes, then came small islands with stout looking houses on them, and the islands were surrounded by _water_. She only knew the word for those things because she'd read them in _books_;she couldn't believe it, how could such things possibly _exist?_

The landscape was enchanting, it was shimmering with beauty; the water was a deep, navy blue starkly contrasting with its light surroundings; even from her vantage point she could barely see the opposite side of it. She thought she saw plumes of smoke coming down from the village under her, and stood dumbstruck, just taking it all in, mouth agape.

A playful breeze stirred her from her silent contemplation, drying perspiration from her brow and pushing her hair back, softly.

It took _hours _of trailing along the rim of the cliff, and the frustratingly out of reach paradise, to find a path flat enough for Darof to be able to walk onto. The descent was long, and grueling, sometimes the trail too narrow for her to travel alongside her stallion. The sun climbed higher and higher in the sky, beating down on her shoulders; but gradually the air grew cooler and heavier, relieving her of some of the heat. She found it so wonderfully strange, this humidity; she'd never felt that before, it coated her like cream and joined the thick drops of perspiration around her throat to form a small rivulet.

At one point they turned right, into a cave.

Eshé had no lantern, nothing to light a fire, but the rocks had some kind of glow about them, a fluorescent shine, that guided her through the dank space. The air was still, here, and had an ancient feel, like it hadn't seen anything go by since the birth of her grannie.

She walked; and walked, and walked, and walked, and walked, and... Yes, you guessed it, walked. She was wearing the curved, oriental climbing shoes of her people; the coppery metal spikes of the soles reflected the walls' light and glinted dangerously in the darkness. Darof was uncharacteristically silent, not a breath louder than the previous one, and compliant, setting his hooves where she put her feet and trusting her to guide him.

"We're going to become best friends, Darof-dearest!" she chanted, laughing her way through the dark.

And suddenly feeling a very cynical look burning through her neck.

After many more dark and deep tumbles, blase glares and stupid comments, they were out.

The moment Eshé set a foot on the grassy turf that spread out before her, a burst of awe exploded through her senses, and she clutched at her stallion's mane before letting go, almost like she had let go of her home, her past, and took a few steps forward, stumbling, into the sunlight.

The same breeze she had felt on top of the cliff earlier in the day came to lift a few locks off her sweaty cheeks, and she rose her amber eyes to the village, the lake far in font of her, savoring it fully: the wind of the adventure, she knew was waiting for her. The zephyr smelled of the future, of youth and energy and _life_, it made her feel exactly like the first second she'd gotten out of the castle.

So beautifully free.

Darof came up behind her and nuzzled her with his black head, brushing along her hair and disturbing it with his breath. She swiftly hefted herself on top of him.

"WOOHOO!" before kicking his sides and violently whipping forward.

The ride to the town didn't take five minutes, no, it didn't take three; it took bare seconds, or that's how she saw it, seconds of wind _wooshing _through her lashes and clothe and of the lake getting so close, so hauntingly close. Then Darof was clattering across wooden bridges, getting the closest he could to the edge of the water – he was thirsty too, a seven days' charge through the desert does take some energy to tell the truth – passing stunned villagers, or grumpy ones like that big man with a droopy brown mustache, and _finally _arriving on the unpopulated, furthermost island.

The black stallion stopped dead, throwing Eshé off his back and face-first – again, it was becoming a bad habit – into the open door of a small wooden shed. Its door brusquely slammed behind her, leaving the young desert girl alone it the dark.

She stayed a minute or so chin in the dirt, recovering a bit and deeply inhaling and exhaling, trying to calm herself down because... she was so, so, so excited! Well she was also scared, she had to admit it, but it was a whole new world whose presence had just dawned on her. How many lakes, like this one, existed in this land? Were some bigger? Was it possible?

She rolled on her back, curls splayed in the dirt; looking at the ceiling in wonder.

A musty smell floated in the shed, of humid soil, darkness and dust moats; some of those were twirling in an aerial ballet in front of the closed window, a ray of sunlight illuminating the ground to Eshé's left. From the wood roof hung fishnets and hooks, things she didn't really know about and that intrigued her. She stood up, wondering what they could be used for, and contemplated the rusted metal.

While Eshé was finally understanding what her journey meant, the totally different reality, of her surroundings – and also contemplating dried fishing worms, it was to be said –, Arven and Shady were making their way to the lake. They'd taken their stuff and paid Mrs. Hatestourix – she'd advised them to go to the furthermost island from the village, where the water was shallower and clearer; and where they'd get privacy to talk.

Exactly what she had insinuated by 'talk', winking at Arven, Shady didn't want to know.

And now they walked. The streets were paved, but grass peaked from around the worn grey stones, colonizing them as surely as the villagers' blooming gardens. Scents of flowers, of beef stews and summer, drifted about them in a lazy sort of rolling, dry heat; they only heard waves lapping at the shores, and all was peaceful...

Arven and Shady came from an different part of the village, so they couldn't see Eshé making her thunderous appearance, just hear the surprised reactions of the locals and curiously wonder what the agitation was all about. They trotted for a few minutes on, making casual conversation, Arven finding her mood was improving a bit, maybe thanks to _all_ the attention her dreamy Shady was giving her, or maybe because of the breeze that drifted to her face, smelling of adventure and whispering mysterious promises, she didn't know...

Candid and Angela still followed the two like professional ninjas, hiding behind garden gnomes and decorated vases under the intrigued gazes of villagers, flattening themselves to stone walls and clinging to the shadows... In their pink princess costumes and white priest robes.

Finally, Arven and Shady reached their destination, the girl smiling and laughing, letting her guardian steady her on the shady – no pun intended – and half-rotten wooden bridge that led to the islet with a blush. She raised her gaze to the Sheikah, intending to thank him... but saw he was contemplating something above her head and behind her. The crow-haired girl turned, brutally cooled down.

On the other side of the bridge they were on, was a jet-black horse, avidly slurping water up from the lake. He rose displeased eyes at the two intruders, almost scowling at them – if it was possible – and whinnied with hostility. Arven strode forward, casting him an equally miffed look, ridiculously jealous of the precious few moments he'd stolen from her.

"Rude beast."

Then she twirled around, observing the islet, that really wasn't much, in fact. It was principally constituted of a few meters of long, dry grasses, with around that a small ring of beach made up of multicolored pebbles. On her left-hand side was a weathered shed that apparently had seen better days.

She energetically trotted to it, calling out a quick "I am going to change!" to Shady. Not knowing, what was about to happen.

One was entering, the other exiting.

Hazard really brings people together in really strange ways. Years later, they would laugh about it, about that brutal collision that had taken lieu against all odds; they'd recall that violent moment where their destinies had entwined to become only, one.

They'd fondly remember, the head-on crash, that had started the adventure of their lives.

/o\ 


	3. A Rocky Start

Retrospectively, their first meeting was very funny. Retrospectively only.

Eshé and Arven had collided with all their strength, their enthusiasm, their joy on this sunny morning that marked the true start of their respective journeys; nothing should have come to ruin this pleasure. The two girls fell on their butts and both their satchels spewed all their contents out in the long grasses and the shed; food, clothe, lingerie, books, everything.

They were both rightfully furious, who was this girl and how dared oppose herself to their plans? Eshé hotly started:

"Don't you ever look where you're going? You blind idiot!"

The desert girl observed her aggressor, a pretentious looking kiddie with long raven-colored hair. Said lass stood up in an enraged movement and glared dangerously at her. And needless to say, that when her horse-riding counterpart imitated her and she noticed that the stranger was taller than her, she saw saw red.

"Who do you think you are! I'm the one who should be asking you that, haven't you ever heard that people entering have priority?"

"Huh? Poe shit, it's the exiting person that has it! And look you made all my stuff fall! Everything better be intact or else!"

"My things also are completely scattered! You're slowing me down on important business, get out of my away! And get glasses too, though it'd make you look even uglier than you already do!"

"REPEAT THAT?"

"UGLY, AWFUL, GROSS, HIDEOUS! Do you need some more synonyms or will that do?!"

"I wouldn't ask you to tire yourself out finding more, I bet they're the only ones you know!"

"No, unlike you I have some education, you impolite eyesore!"

It is said that sometimes two people fundamentally cannot get along, may it be physically-wise or personality-wise. Well, it is unknown whether that saying is true or not, but electric tension was certainly crackling on the little islet of Gollsville, Hyrule.

The two girls could not stop themselves, Destiny was at work.

"_What?_ Me, impolite? YOU'RE the one bothering me and delaying my journey!" spat Eshé.

"No, you're holding ME back on MY travels!"

"What, _you're _traveling? And who's he, your daddy?" scoffed the desert runaway, imperiously pointing a finger at Shady.

Under the menacing glare of the freaky, disheveled girl, the Sheikah blanched at took a few steps back, leaving his protege to reply with a furious hiss:

"He's not my father he's my _guardian_, you ignorant fathead, and you better be more polite with him than you were with me!"

"Oooh, missy needs a little _guardian_ to protect her, I understand! How adorable, is he here to stop you pushing too much people around? Because he's not doing a very good job! Well unlike you I can travel ON MY OWN without a personal protector watching my every step!"

And at that Eshé maternally caressed the top of Arven's head, to clearly show she was taller and superior, dominated the yet older girl by those precious centimeters... A gesture that finally made the raven-haired lass snap.

The two got dangerously close, they were on the verge of using their hands to explicit what words couldn't properly convey; when Shady decided enough was enough, he was an adult after all, he should be an authority, an example for the two children, this couldn't go on!

"Now now ladies, calm down, this is only a misunderstanding..." he started, trying to get in between the currently demonic looking pair.

The two girls twisted around, eyes freezing him in place and throwing incandescent daggers, and screamed as one:

"YOU, SHUT UP."

Before twirling back to face each other, Eshé jeering:

"Well I _know _I'll finish my journey _before _you!"

"Oh yes? Well _I _say mine will be over even before you come halfway!"

"Pfft even with the help of your dear little papa you'll take two times as long!"

"Well at least _I _know how to take care of myself and the other people around me! You_ stink_,' and Arven pinched her nose, just to prove her point, 'and your horse looks like it's half-dead with exhaustion and hunger! I don't know where you come from, but if you don't have the maturity to help someone who's _counting _on you then you certainly won't be able to achieve your journey!"

Meanwhile, Shady was still frozen to his place, wondering if he should be offended by this total lack of respect both from the strange girl and his own young oyster, or if he should be happy he had the opportunity loaf around and rest. His previous burst of idealistic energy spluttered out and died, leaving him to apathetically observe the enraged females. He supposed teens always argued, anyway.

But the girls were again getting dangerously close, and suddenly Eshé indignantly raised her fist, frustrated to find no words to reply, preparing to slam it down on Arven's defiant scowl... He rushed – walked – forward, hands held out, crying out dramatically:

"Girls, stop i-"

"YOU, SHUT UP!" they roared back with groundbreaking synchronization in a spectral voice.

He brusquely stopped to a shivering halt. His responsible, frail little oyster and the tanned foreigner had become as two snarling hydras, a bloody, oppressing and competitive aura emanating from their bodies and rendering the air almost palpable. How could Arven have become this... this horrible monster! Were women all Moblins in disguise? On reflection he was indeed an adult but not a responsible one, he refused to risk his life further than he already had!

Meanwhile the girl's argument had derived to some more, piteously immature levels.

"My business is more important than yours!"  
"No, mine is, _I'm _looking for someone that's going to change my life!"  
"Well _I _don't _need _to look for someone for change my life, I do it very fine on my own!"  
"Well good for you because nobody would want you anyway!"  
"Oh yeah? Well who's going to take in a blind pest! People really have strange tastes around here!"  
"Around here? You're not from here? Well it's true you have a strange face, maybe you come from a country of uglies!"  
"No more ugly than around here, at least we don't have brats like you where I come from! And _I _know that, because I've actually traveled, unlike you!"  
"I don't need to travel, I've already seen all there is to see!"  
"Pfft, I'm going to travel to places you've never even _dreamed _existed!"  
"That doesn't even exist, all the things you'll visit, I'll already have seen!"

Eshé arched a contemptuous eyebrow, smacking her hands on her hips she exclaimed:

"I doubt a weak girl like you could travel to the places I want to go to! What's your level in magic dueling: meganoob?"  
"_Excuse me? _I've been studying magic and magic dueling for all my life! An ignorant girl like you wouldn't even beat my little finger!"  
"Oh yeah? Well I come from the desert, a place where you need to actually fight to survive, I have the magic of my ancestors: it's much better than what your parents gave you, you already have everything served in a silver platter!"  
"_My_ ancestors' magic is much better than _yours!_ It's pure and noble, and a hundred times more awesome than your little tricks!"  
"I'll show you 'little tricks'! My family's magic is way more powerful than yours!"  
"No, there's no way it reaches a fifth of a quarter of my family's!"  
"Pfft, you sure about that snotty poopoo?!"  
"Perfectly! I'd beat you in any magic-duel in a instant!"  
"Oh yeah? _WANNA BET?_"

That was it. Eshénadoru, incensed, had finally snapped, spitting out the phrase Tasha must have at least heard a thousand time in her life; to win this argument, to shut her current number one enemy up. She was absolutely infuriated, how dare this snotty brat judge her origins and downgrade her dream; who did she think she was to say her magic was more powerful, a princess?

Arven was just as enraged; everything in this girl angered her: the confident and immature way she spoke, the fact she seemed to have more breasts and was taller than her but appeared younger, her completely repulsive and horrible mane of brown, forked knots, her weird and furious amber eyes and round face, _everything._

"ALRIGHT! Let's do this now!"  
"ALRIGHT!"  
"ALRIGHT!"

The two girls positioned themselves on opposite ends of the tiny islets, furious, viciously licking their lips and unsheathing their claws... No, not quite. But almost.  
Shady took that opportunity to take a step forward. He judged that the girls had sufficiently calmed down, for him to intervene without risk of dying: 

"Alright, let me remind you two of the rules of magic-dueling then... It'll be a good start for your Magical Discovery Program, Arven.' He dramatically cleared his throat: 'Number one, most important and absolutely unquestionable rule: each opponent has to create his own magic avatar, or mavatar for short, to battle in his stead, so as not to get wounded... or worse. Second rule, the zone influenced by the magic attacks must not exceed two dozen meters. Number three: the winner is the one that manages to destroy his opponent's avatar first." 

Silence, the two girls kept shooting each-other murderous glares. Shady took two or three steps backward, then another one for good measure – you never knew with angry females – and loudly declared:

"This duel will oppose Arven Alethea Seymour, best student of Castleton Academy...' No, no, he wasn't biased at all, 'To... uh..."

"Eshé of the desert," the girl completed, not sparing him a glance.

"... Eshé of the desert,' he concluded. 'Begin!"

Immediately two perfect copies of Eshé and Arven appeared before the two girls, facing off. Eshé's double was the first one to react: on its fingertips burst small flames, and it rushed forward to Arven's incarnation, smashing its hands along its opponents face. The crow-haired doppelganger cried out, but instantly replied with a kick in the shin... which was caught by a flame-hot hand, the feet brutally tugged forward to crash against a waiting adversary. However Arven's representation took that opportunity to tackle its foe to the ground, startling it with a series of electric shocks.

Both girls cheered their embodiments on with a fierce passion, their vicious competitiveness only adding fuel to their mutual hostility and their desire to win. Arven was Castleton Academy's best student, she wasn't used to being wrong or loosing; and the capricious Eshé definitely didn't sit right with being denied what she wanted. Before Shady's frightened, horrified – but secretly disabused – gaze, was a budding rivalry.

Time wore on without either one of the girls succeeding to take the advantage: Eshé's avatar would punch Arven's personification in the stomach, burning its clothes in the process with its small embers, but the crow-haired teen would order her doppelganger to retaliate with a furious spray of water or metal-powered bite.

And furious Arven was. Furious, and disappointed. She'd never been the girl to have many friends, she seemed to just incite the other kids to hate her with her two skipped classes and her near perfect scholar results. Her adoptive family seemed to educate her only out of duty, and had never once done everything for her: so she'd always sheltered herself in her studies, reading magic dictionaries till untold hours of the night, spending her recesses in the classroom or in the library to flee her cruel classmates. She knew everything about magic! She'd studied it so hard, it was the dream of her life to become an arena master, to win a magic tournament, and she knew if she won this summer's competition, she would be free, so that only added fuel to her motivation! But... then why wasn't she taking the advantage?

While Arven battled to find a flaw in her carefully decided tactics, Shady perfectly knew why his protege was struggling: Eshé didn't respect the rules. She wasn't cheating, no, everything she did was technically allowed, but it overlapped the academic boundaries of Arven's knowledge. The crow-haired girl had been taught, that each opponent had a turn to attack and that those turns were supposed to be respected, but in real-life situations this never was and Eshé definitely wasn't waiting for a signal to start her maneuvers. Eshé was also fighting in a completely unorthodox way, she didn't seem to be using any attacks Arven knew the name of: her iron-hot slaps weren't Firefists, but they weren't Embers either; and why was her mavatar suddenly getting on four paws?

Lost as the desert girl's incarnation rushed towards her own, baring her teeth, Arven shouted: "Jump!"

This action was immediately executed by her doppelganger; and Eshé's double looked up in worry and awe alike... as the crow-haired teen's copy heavily crashed down on it, drawing out a pained yelp of its lip. Eshé cursed, running hand in her messy mane of knots: suddenly an excited light illuminated her eyes and she yelled:

"Spray gas in the air!"

Arven, and the secret observers Candid and Angela stayed absolutely stunned as Eshé's mavatar seemed to deflate like a noxious balloon, a sickly-purple gas pouring out of its ears, mouth, nose, and even its butt. Shady also, stayed perplex as to the purpose of this move, Arven's copy sure seemed bothered by it but it didn't look damaging.

Brusquely a wicked smile illuminated Eshé's round face, and she blew out: "Fire!"

An enormous explosion lit up the island, deafening all its occupants, the powerful winds and remaining tendrils of gas smashing against Shady's protection barrier. Angela and Candid gasped, but this was lost as they were all flattening their hands against their ears.

When the explosion disappeared, both mavatars were gone, completely annihilated.

Silence.

Shady uneasily cleared his throat.

"Well... it would seem this is a tie..." he whispered, but the murmur barely left his lips, almost as if it wanted to go unnoticed.

More silence.

Then the uproar:

"What?' exclaimed Eshé, indignant. 'I'm the one who launched the last attack, I should be the winner!"  
"Well you killed yourself in the process you idiot.' snapped back Arven, scarlet red with embarrassment. 'If you had planned that, you would have won."  
"But that's totally unfair-"

And the argument went on. Both girls were equally disappointed: but if Eshé told herself, thrilled, that this was only the start of her journey, that she would progress and live tons of other adventures, Arven was blaming herself, not understanding why she had lost, why she was so weak. She'd work so hard, why was she failing now?

Eventually, the girl's argument plunged to new abysses of immaturity:

"Well I don't care, I'll _still _finish my journey before you! I won after all!"  
"What, you think running around claiming to win all your matches will get you far? Good luck!"  
"Maybe not but I'll get _further _than you!"  
"No I will!"  
"No, ME!"  
"ME!"  
"ME"

Leaving Shady to groan and massage his head, already feeling to tired to continue. The girls had lots to learn from each-other, that was clear: Eshé's didn't even seem to know the basics of magic-dueling and Arven could use some shaking up. Besides, if they could mutually watch over each-other, it'd take a load of his work...

Speaking of that he had an idea!

The Sheikah took a step forward, stars in his eyes, his laziness shouting victory, and dramatically asked:

"But how will you two really have proof of who will go further than the other?"

This time there was really, a huge, flat, screed of silence. Wind rushed through the grasses. The waves lapped at the shore. Darof shuffled around a bit, saddle jingling. Shady was frozen with hands, held out on either side of his bodies, as if ready to defend himself from an army, pale hair gloriously flying in the breeze, reddish eyes shining with courage... In short, cowering between the two astounded but still potentially dangerous gazes of the girls.

Both stood dumbstruck: they hadn't thought about that at all, too busy insulting each other and refraining from using their hands! What was to stop the other from cheating? Of course they both assumed their hugest enemy of the moment would, Eshé thought Arven was a spoiled brat who would bribe her papa-dearest into taking shortcuts; and Arven distrusted the foreign girl, after all she looked clearly too immature to play fair and if she won without knowing Hyrule, it would obviously be thanks to cheating! Of course Eshé and Arven didn't consider for an instant they could honestly be beaten.

It was then that the Sheikah suggested in a meek voice:

"You girls could travel together?"

The very suicidal suggestion was again met, by silence. Then it erupted:

"WHAT, me traveling with her, are you out of your right mind?"  
"EXCUSE ME, but she ISN'T coming with me!"  
"Not that I would want to go with you anyway, PEST!"  
"Well that's perfect because you're PERSONA NON GRATA, ugly!"  
"Ohh using complicated words to impress again, what language do you even speak?!"  
"The native one, unlike you!"

Seeing that that the situation was going to get out of hand again, Shady, with uncharacteristic courage said:

"But then you won't know how far the other has gone."

A new silence, even more profound than the precedent, settled. Eshé suddenly looked to be in deep reflection, she was weighing the pros and the cons: on one hand tagging along with two natives could help her get to know the region without getting preyed on or killed – not that she was scared, it just tended to be, you know, bothersome – on the other hand she would have to deal with snotty poo all day. What was the best option?

Arven had no advantages to bring Eshé in other than seeing if she won the bet, but that was enough; she was burning with raw desire to see the girl loose, so if it was really her only option...

"FINE!" the two girls snapped.

Eshé turned to the raven-haired girl with a glare:

"But I'm not talking to _you_!"  
"Amazing, because I'm not talking to you _either!_"

And that was how Shady, remotely aggravated but mostly relieved the storm was over – though like previously said, tension was still crackling – led the two girls and the horse over the bridge of the small islet. They would bath in Lake Hylia another time. Not now. Not now. Another time.

/o\

Unknown to the group, Candid and Angela had witnessed the entirety of the conversation and magic-duel. Indeed, the young man with grey eyes had been hanging on the underside of the bridge with his four limbs and all his desperation and desire to live – if he made any noise his dear little heart of an Angee had promised to murder him very viciously – while said woman was hiding in the shallow water, breathing through a bamboo tuba in the very stealthy position of the upturned turtle paw – which is best not described. Shady had been too focused on the fight to notice them. The pair was terrified to learn that on top of that Arven fury they were stalking, they would have to watch out for another disheveled demon – and that those two seemed to be good at magic-dueling.

When they were sure that the trio and the black stallion – he'd been fixing Candid with an assassin glare worthy of his mistress for the whole discussion, the man had been so scared he'd almost let go of the bridge – had gone out of sight, the pair had climbed up the islet, and went over the event in hushed voices.

"Who do you think this girl is?" asked Candid, frightened.

"I don't know, but she doesn't look from here," whispered back Angee.

"From Gollsville?"

"No, from _here!_" justly explained the blond with a wide gesture of her arm.

Their profound discussion stopped here.

They followed the group from afar, once again using garden gnomes and vases and shadows and fences to hide. The vicious argument between the girls had thankfully not contaminated the day with its hellish aura: the sun was shining in a mid-morning, blue sky, no clouds coming to disrupt the harmony of the azure summer heavens. Everything, seemed vibrant, the grasses were green, the stale colors of the houses were nearly glimmering, dogs joyously barked and the lake was almost _too_ blue.

… Making the scene was almost _too _perfect.

Of course this couldn't last. Arven wanted to go to Ordon, of the forests of the South, next; that was where the first magic arena of the summer magic tournament was situated. They'd found a carriage – a farmer and what seemed like his niece going back to their home after a delivery of wood – but Darof refused to be attached at the back. The stallion was grunting and whinnying angrily and almost kicked their soon-to-be driver in the face, spitting on a cross Arven in the same movement.

Eshé snickered with pleasure, but was quickly shut up by her own horse, who took the opportunity to also hand her a piece of his saliva.

The carriage was a rather sturdy looking one, of ordinary, bold wood. Underneath rested two huge, elegant wheels; it was sheltered by a roof and only a pair of windows allowed glimpses of the outside. Behind had been connected a wide cart stacked with hay.

The farmer – a ready man of medium build, with a tuft of wavy blond hair and ocean-blue eyes – finally gave up on Darof, and with a grunt attached the stallion beside the mottled grey mare that was waiting up front.

Shady thanked him, jumped on the hay to the back, leaving Eshé to gloomily enter the main body of the convoy. She'd have wanted to be outside, in the fresh air, but she'd leave it at the for now. Arven stiffly entered the carriage behind her, and they found themselves... seated on the same row of red leather, not looking at each-other, in front of a crow-haired ten year old.

Her face was slim, still conserving slightly childlike curves, but thinner than Eshé's nonetheless. She had her uncle's blue-green eyes and tanned skin, from working outdoors more likely, and smiled shyly.

"Hello... I'm Annabelle, what's your name?"

The two older girls replied at the same time, earning themselves thunderous glares. Eshé sighted noisily and started again:

"I'm Eshé!"  
"My name is Arven."

They digested each other's appellation. Annabelle seemed to pause and think, for a moment; she was a cute child, Arven noticed. Suddenly the carriage lurched to a start, the clatter of the horses' hooves filling the small room with a martial music. Eshé, seeing the youngest of their trio seemed to be unsure of what to say and slightly panicking, helpfully supplied:

"How old are you?"  
"Ten since the 27th of December," she replied, blushing.

Arven was about to say something but the desert girl obliviously interrupted:

"Ooooh your birthday's between Christmas and the New Year, you're _so _not lucky!"  
"But I get three times as more presents as the others!"  
"I know but you have nothing the rest of the year right?"

The older girl scowled, upset to have been excluded from the conversation, and turned her head to the window. Her heart lurched. They had barely left Gollsville's islands and were starting to climb a steep slope leading to the southern cliffs: it suddenly dawned on her she had a fear of heights.

"Well when is _your _birthday?" petulantly asked Annabelle.  
"The 31st of August! It's the month of the lion, and it's the middle of the rainy season in my country!"

Annabelle hesitated, divided between two questions Eshé's sentence had raised, but finally chose the most pressing one according to her:

"What's a lion?"

This Arven took as her cue to grab the spotlight:

"It is an animal only seen in books,' she explained. 'It looks a bit like a bit cat and it lived in hot places, but the monsters exterminated it a long time ago."  
"Oooooh."  
"And it was suuuuuper powerful, it was all golden and had a really wild mane, kind of like me," grinned Eshé.  
"Well if it was really 'super powerful' why did the race die out according to you?" snapped Arven scathingly.  
"I thought you weren't talking to me!" Eshé shot back, indignant.  
"Well maybe I am!"

Silence settled and the two girls, fuming, glared outside their respective windows. However while Arven had the beautiful view, Eshé only saw a rough cliff face, which didn't help distract her. After a few minutes of silence Annabelle asked timidly:

"Why are you angry?"

Good question.  
Both girls snapped back around to look at Annabelle, who suddenly felt very intimidated under the weigh of the gazes of fire and ice. Eshé's amber irises looked as startled – but still self-righteous – as Arven's blue discs.

"She's a snotty know-it-all!"  
"She's an immature idiot!"

They glared at each other, and Annabelle said, 

"Oh."

Shady, out back, was snoring, a strand of hay in his mouth making his breath emit a sort of weird, whistling noise. He'd used an unwashed shirt previously stuffed in his satchel to protect his eyes against the sun. The hay softly prickled his body, the burnt golden streaks bristling like an angry cat under the bright shafts of late morning light; a slightly chilly breeze brushed the carriage, wheezing in rhythm with the horses' trot, and entered his shirt through its collar, softly tickling and cooling his body. The Sheikah sighted in contentment and shifted positions.

Meanwhile Candid and Angela were far from this blissful state. They had seen their target board onto the carriage and the carriage leave without being able to follow; they had though to hide in the hay but the whole time someone had been watching: it would have been impossible to do so discreetly!

They were quite literally left in the dust.

A frightening reality then imposed itself to the two robbers: N.I was after them, but if they failed Faltwin's mission he wouldn't protect them either. Worse, he would probably chase them down, and then they would have the two most powerful criminal organizations of Hyrule out for their blood. They gulped, panicked.

Why had they betrayed N.I in the first place? They'd had enough money for their noodles, they hadn't got into too shady cases and had never got blood on their hands, why in the world had they stolen their main project? 

"Everything's your fault!" Angela tearfully snapped, slapping Candid.

He yelped, grabbing his cheek and replied:

"Don't worry Angee we can still get out of this..."  
"No we _can't_, we're going to DIE Candy, and it's _your fault!_"  
"But-"  
"No buts!"  
"But-"  
_"NO BUTS!"_

A curious passerby threw them a stunned glance, and they hushed their voices, looking at each-other conspiratorially. Angela tugged at Candid's hair to get his attention, and when he gasped, she hissed:

"The girl said she was going to Ordon, so we're going to Ordon, we can still catch up!"

Candid nodded fearfully: his partner was much more terrifying than N.I and Faltwin combined. However...

"How are we going to get there?"

They couldn't loose sight of their target! … Wait, that was already done...  
It was then the two robbers realized: they would had to walk.

/o\

Sunshine reflected itself on the waves, playfully bouncing between foamy crests and tricking spectators into believing the shores of the lake was their own source of light. Shady contemplated the scene, now awakened, mind completely at peace. The vision of the lake calmed him; he even thought, once or twice, to have caught glimpses of the iridescent Zora temples.

And while inside the carriage three young girls conversed uneasily, finding out more and more things about each other, the convoy continued ever onwards on its road to the heavens...

The rest of the journey passed without too much trouble. Apart from stupid arguments between the girls. They were diametrically opposed on the most ridiculous things, and disputes such as:

"Meat!"  
"No, _fish!_"  
"No, _meat!_"  
"FISH!"  
"MEAT!"

… could be heard from morning to midnight in the small company. Shady even once considered doubling the farmer's – whose name was Jacob, he had learned in a polite conversation - payment. Another time he dreamed of tape and woke up confused to realize that the girls were still shouting.

Well, at least he could lay down and do nothing for most of the day.

Annabelle tried in vain to appease the tension between the girls, but, running out of ideas, decided to simply enjoy the teens' company separately.

Darof seemed happy with the grey mare – Cabbage, she was called – pulling along the carriage with energy and robust strength. The voyage should have normally lasted six days, but on the second afternoon they had already entered the ancient and majestic forests of Hyrule, and passed a promising village of twenty thousand souls – Sylveston – at the eve of the woods, where they stocked up on everything they would need for the last day, and goods Jacob wanted to bring back to his family. Annabelle had been excitedly babbling for the entirety of the afternoon about her relatives, having finally melted down to the two girls.

Arven politely asked questions about them while Eshé gazed at the woods, awed. She had never seen so much trees in her life, and she had never seen trees like those.

They were huge and shot straight up to the sky, their rich bark gnarled and twisted in some places; their leaves, came in all shades of green and variety of shapes: they were wide and flush, dark and narrow and prickly, or brindled when they came across evergreens. It was like an army of sentinels were watching them, and it was only according to their will that they passed unharmed. The tree soldiers, took up all the sunlight, stifling all life but them; rare where the flowers on the ground or the berry bushes: here was the dense, deserted part of the forest, and it held a weary, oppressing sort of aura, that affected everyone but the desert girl. She was absolutely thrilled, and in the evening she couldn't repress herself from touching the rich soil of the woods and smelling its earthy fragrance, in the intimacy of a small groove of birches.

Strange, weird sort of flowers, soft and mushy looking, grew beside her: she reached out an open palm, intrigued, when a calm voice stopped her:

"I wouldn't be doing that, if I were you."

She started and turned around, to meet Shady's glinting eye. The young man was gazing dreamily down at her, a curved smile playing on his lips. He sat down beside the guarded, huddled girl.

"It's an _Amanita phalloide_,' he explained in an uncharacteristic serious tone. 'It's a poisonous mushroom."

Eshé wondered at that for a second, before raising her head to the canopy. She looked at the Sheikah from the corner of her amber eyes, and asked earnestly:

"What's a mushroom?"

He burst out laughing, but it was a kind laugh, an easy one; one that didn't make her feel ashamed and ignorant. Then he replied:

"It's a sort of plant. Sometimes it's good to eat, sometimes, it kills you.' Then, puzzling for a second on how to formulate his question, he gently questioned her: 'you're not from around here, are you? You're a Gerudo?"

Eshé hesitated for a second, before completely turning towards him, hands digging in the soil. She had a pensive look on her tanned face.

"I don't know. We don't call ourselves like that. But if you mean I come from the desert, then yes, I'm Gerudo."

"What do call your people, then?" asked Shady, unable to hold back his curiosity. Some will say, that it was his greatest quality, and his – second – greatest flaw.

"Well it depends,' explained Eshé, 'we're thousands of different families, and each family has its own language. In mine, it's Geloodeh."

"Well, that sounds like Gerudo," commented Shady.

Eshé laughed in her turn. They stayed silent for a few minutes, waiting as on the other side of the groove, the dinner was cooked, the horses put to rest and the fire started. They were almost, protected by the trees, it was like there was a peaceful bubble between them and the rest of the world. Eshé felt safe with the adult; her worries and the memory of her family was weighing her down, she had nobody to talk to, so this instant of casual conversation was very welcome. The young girl let her shoulders droop, eyes downcast.

"I also come from a people different of the Hylians and Humans,' said Shady. 'But we just have one language. We're the Sheikah."

"I've never heard about them," replied Eshé, curious.

A new laugh erupted from Shady, gently. He tipped his head, his low ponytail of faded white hair falling to the side, and eventually settled against the same, wide trunk Eshé had leaned on.

"That's normal. We're an ancient people, that were almost exterminated. There's very few of us left."

Where any average person, would have let out a kind, grieving comment, a condolence, Eshé only observed:

"It must be hard to reproduce without diluting your people's blood."

"Yes, though I'm not concerned with that for now...' he shuddered at the thought of the energy it would take to fall in love, and have _children_, before adding: 'We get people pretending to have Sheikah ascendance and magical powers everyday."

"Magical powers?" asked Eshé, surprised. Everybody had magical powers: why pretend?

"Well Sheikah are very gifted in the art of healing, may it be the body or the spirit. So a lot of potion makers lie about that to their clients..."

Eshé shivered, when he said the word "healing". Shady puzzled at that, but respectfully asked no questions, instead getting up and offering the disheveled girl, that suddenly seemed much less demonic, a hand.

"Come on, the others will miss us."

The desert girl acquiesced, and let him lead her out of the groove, feeling suddenly light, like she had left all her troubles between the roots of the trees.

After dinner, a new problem of terrifying importance imposed itself to the group: the problem of the tents. They were five but only possessed three; Jacob and Annabelle slept together, and Shady alone, so... Eshé and Arven had to sleep together!

This was unacceptable for the two girls! Eshé, sleep with a snotty noble-girl? Arven, sharing her vital space with a stinky savage? Out of question!

But they had to face reality: a new tent wasn't just going to sprout out of the ground, and Shady, much to Arven's disappointed, didn't want to share with her. So at nine p.m sharp they found themselves barely a meter apart in their tiny tent, facing off silently, each doing their own business and their best to ignore the other. 

They were about to fall asleep... When Arven decided that enough was enough! She was almost by two years Eshé's elder after all, she was the mature one here: so she had to take it upon herself to call for a cease fire and start again on a clean slate. 

She imagined Shady's proud and dreamy face to give herself some courage, and declared: 

"So I heard that you come from the desert right?" 

Eshé turned her head, surprised and replied, even forgetting to use an unpleasant tone: "Yes, it's very far away East..."

"I know,' stated Arven, and Eshé was about to retort that if she knew, then why was she asking her question about it, when the crow-haired girl added: 'I've studied the Gerudo, they're usually very gifted in Spiritual magic, and it's really incredible because each family has its own special type of magic: that amounts up to more than five thousand three hundred of them."

Eshé's sarcastic riposte died before leaving her lips, stumbling on her vocal cords, then piteously crashing on her pink tongue. Arven was teaching her things she didn't know just there: her instructors had desperately tried to make her remember the number of families but she'd never bothered to learn, and eventually Tasha had just explained to them they'd fare better giving up. Another thought secretly snaked to her fore-mind: If Arven knew those things about a foreign people's magic, how much knowledge did she have on her own compatriots? She must be really intelligent!

Arven, taking this silence as a sign she could continue, stuttered and managed a: "are you going to participate to this summer's magical tournament?"

Eshé's next reply left her in a state of shock:

"What's a tournament?" the girl asked innocently, laying down on her covers and crossing her arms underneath her hair.

"B-but it's the hugest magic-duel competition you could ever participate in, don't you know it? Challengers have to travel all over the country to fight against the local magic arena masters, and if they defeat all of them they can even fight against the queen!"  
"Really?" exclaimed Eshé, jumping up as if they would start right now.

Her competitive instinct was already reacting, and this journey would most likely take her to Hyrule's most beautiful places! Of course if she reached a high level of competition it would be mediated, there would be photos and videos and news articles about her... Since the invention of the flashstone, that allowed to take photos and such, each event was massively covered by the press: that's how she got news of her best-friend Link, because he was very gifted in magic-dueling. But she'd never understood it was in huge tournaments like this, just watched his duels... Oh well, she would see when the time came if she was in danger of being discovered!

"When does it start?" she asked Arven, stars in her eyes.  
"It's already started,' replied the girl. 'The first Arena is in Ordon, that's where I'm going!"

Well it was also to search for a husband amongst the local nobles, but she didn't want to think about that...

"And if you win all the arenas you get a wish granted by the queen of Hyrule herself, Lady Arianna V of House Harkinian!" 

Eshé frowned, then shrugged: that didn't interest her, she just, really, really wanted to travel. Instead the heaved herself to her wide travel satchel and pulled out a piece of paper that seemed to have been teared out of a magazine, and showed it to Arven: 

"Well if you want to be the best of Hyrule you're going to have to beat _him_, Link Peenash! He's the best magic-dueler there is, my idol!" exclaimed Eshé, hearts pulsing in her pupils.  
"Um... who's Link Peenash?" 

Arven had never heard about him, she really wasn't the type to read people magazines. Eshé's jaw dropped to the floor in a echoing thud; she brusquely became scarlet red and loudly shouted, more in surprise than anything: 

"YOU DON'T KNOW LINK PEENASH?"

Arven stared harder at the paper her interlocutor was waving about, trying harder to determine if she had seen him before or not. The photo was of a young man looking around twenty, brilliant green eyes peeking from underneath, shaggy, dirty-blond hair. He was sweetly hugging a brunette that was back-turned to the flashstone, and the title read: "**LINK PEENASH DATING ILIA SANDERS?**".

"No, I really don't know him,' she replied, shrugging. 'I have my own idol!"

And at that she pulled out a newspaper from her own bag, carefully unfolded it, and showed the desert girl a small article at the bottom of the left column. It showed a young man that looked to be slightly older than Link: but nothing could be certain, because his whole body, from his face to his toes, was concealed in a thick black cloak. The article related how the 'Masked Hero' had appeared a few years back when a fire started in Castleton, and that he bore a gift at magic-dueling, notably in the Water and Natural types of magic.

"He always comes to save the day but he never ones revealed his identity,' the crow-haired girl explained, enthusiastic. 'I'd love to be as selfless as him!"

But her words were lost on Eshé, who just doubtfully stared at the article, not fully understanding why staying anonymous was so important – except in her case.

"He's not as classy as Link," she stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Arven immediately became scarlet: "Well how would you know, you've never met him!" she snapped back, outraged.

"Oh because maybe _you've_ met him?" sarcastically asked Eshé. Who in the world actually met a hero?  
"Well, I did." retorted Arven, much to Eshé's surprise.

It had been a cold fall day in Castleton, frost was just beginning to cover the blades of grass of the East-side park, coloring them in thin chips of white and rendering them brittle and crunchy. She was twelve at the time, shivering as she watched the Natural magic that flowed from tree to tree and jotting down her observations for her next essay. The teacher had only asked they do research at the Academy's library, but she always did more than asked and had been wondering through the frozen realm of dead leaves and solitary trunks of the park for a few hours then, with no animal and no passerby to break the total silence of the place.

Eventually she'd been satisfied with her notes, and was heading back to the river to find her way back home, when she heard a lady shout someone had stolen her bag. The next thing she knew a man dressed in black – how cliche – was bursting through the bushes; frightened, she'd tried to block him with a Barrier spell, but the words had barely reached her lips he was knocking her aside and fleeing the scene.

It was then the Masked Hero had appeared! He'd rushed in, just a few steps behind, and his mavatar had tackled the thug to the ground! And while that was happening he'd strode towards her and bent to pick her up, saying in a dreamy voice:

"Thank you, it was very brave to try to stop him. If I was your father I'd be very proud of you."

And he'd left her with those words. Since then he'd been her motivation when times were harsh, she'd remind herself of his courage and selflessness, and quietly vow one day she'd be just like him: helping others in times of need. She wanted to be someone you could count on.

As Arven finished recounting the memory in a proud voice, a naive smile playing on her lips, Eshé scowled. What, the girl thought she could impress her with this weirdo of a hero? He didn't even make the headlines of a journal, who was he?

"Well Link's my childhood friend,' she sniffed in a cross voice. 'So I've met him: and I can say he's much better than your second class masked guy!"  
"Excuse me? No one's better than the Masked Hero!" replied Arven, red.  
"Yes Link is!"  
"No he isn't!"  
"YES!"  
"NO!"

"GO TO SLEEP GIRLS!" the shout came from a neighboring tent, though they couldn't distinguish the host of the sleepy voice.

They glared at each-other, but decided to leave it at that: after all it was already a miracle that they had conversed ten minutes without attempting to kill each-other.

So the two fell asleep, rocked to the rhythm of Shady's snores...

/o\

The next morning they ate a quick breakfast, making small talk, then were on their way.

The woods still were plunged in darkness, no sunlight making its way through the thick canopy; the air carried a musty smell; this encouraged no one to talk, and they made silent travel during which Eshé decided to count the mushrooms she spotted on the road.

Arven was huddled on her seat, tired. She hadn't slept well after their conversation, plagued by nightmares she couldn't remember, and felt a sort of nausea since breakfast, which had admittedly not been very good. The pace of the horses rattled her body and didn't help fight the sickness, and she hiccuped regularly under Annabelle's worried gaze.

Shady still sat on top of the hay, but wasn't sleeping: closed spaces made him uneasy and he wondered how Eshé, a desert girl, could bear it.

It was near eleven o'clock, sharp, when Annabelle screamed. It startled the other girls in the carriage, drawing Eshé out of equally somber considerations and causing Arven to widen her eyes in fear. Shady jumped up on his stack of hay and Jacob twisted around up front, worrying for his niece; the girl was stumbling away from the window, pointing at something in the woods.

The carriage completely stopped, Jacob jumping down from his seat at the front and rushing to open the carriage door.

That simple move, saved his life.

A gigantic and hairy spider crashed on the front of the carriage, causing it to shudder and lurch. Arven, startled, fell to the ground with a shriek, Eshé pressed her face against the glass window, trying to see what was going on. Annabelle let out a new, bloodcurdling scream with the spider scuttled down the side of the carriage Eshé was watching, exposing its hairy black and white abdomen.

Shady jumped up in a rush, cursing his lack of attention, cursing, cursing to have let himself be lulled by the last week of quiet travel and the softness of the hay; he should have heard the Skulltulas before everyone, he was a Sheikah! But instead he needed Annabelle, the youngest girl of all, to remind him of their existence-

Suddenly the giant spider Annabelle had first spotted, shot at Shady, rushing from the woods to the left side of the carriage. The man reacted instantly, calling upon his mavatar, which blocked the spider with a wall of vines in the blink of an eye. The Sheikah jumped over the wall to the spider, leaving his double to protect the carriage.

Shady's mass painfully landed on and compressed the thrashing beast's stomach, it let out a gross sort of whistling gurgle before bursting, splattering the Sheikah with white goo. He jumped up and sprinted around the car to the second Skulltula, adrenaline driving him on, but just as he reached the second monster a huge one crashed on top of him from the canopy.

He shouted in terror, slashing at its head with a silver dagger, and it flew to the side while the body heavily crumpled on top of him, blood gushing. Jacob, coming around the front of the carriage in front of the half-crazed horses, tugged the corpses off by its feet. He was about to check everyone was alright, when a piercing cry made them all freeze; Eshé, Arven, Annabelle, him, everyone.

Shady, under the frozen gazes of the girls still inside, and of the farmer, and of his double, was pointing a trembling finger at the canopy.

They all, slowly, raised their heads.

On top of them, dangling from branches, gooey webs, from half-eaten corpses, was an uncountable number of spiders.

Another one crashed on top of the carriage. Annabelle let out a muffled cry as Eshé rushed to hug her, Arven cowering sick on the floor; Shady painfully jumped up, not knowing whether to look up or in front of him, wincing in fear as he realized he'd been stung in the thigh...

But the spider didn't jump at him, didn't jump at Jacob, it twisted around at scuttled down the opposite side. And broke a glass window with a huge crash, bashing the door to the inside open. Terrified screams rose from the transportation, the two men and the mavatar sprinted around the horses, but it was too late, the spider was jumping on Eshé, gripping her face with its legs and piercing her diaphragm with a pointed sting.

Annabelle shrieked and cried, cowering in a corner of the carriage, while Shady leaped inside and slashed, slashed, slashed at the beast, panicking, heart bursting in his mouth and making him dizzy; he crumbled head first into the corpse which Arven dragged off disgustedly, tears in her eyes, watching as Eshé's body was slowly uncovered...

Outside Jacob called upon his own mavatar to second him as they watched the spiders, frozen. The three remaining outside, the two doubles, and him, were driven half mad with fear. The screams had stopped into muffled sobs, and a terrible silence had fallen, not interrupted by the wind, not by a breath, not by anything. Still the spiders silently dangled atop them, slightly swaying from their silky threads...

Shady jumped outside, panicking, telling himself to remember what he'd been taught at school, to remember, just remember, he'd failed so bad... He mumbled a half-broken chant to his mavatar, but it didn't work, it didn't seem to work...

A voice joined along with his and he wheeled around to Jacob, memories flowing back to him. Their two mavatars closed their eyes, and burst into a flood of scarlet, burning light... 

The spiders were carbonized. One by one, their scalded, fried bodies fell to the ground, each with thumps that sent new shivers of fear in the party; their hearts leaped in their chests to the rhythm the Skulltelas fell, and Jacob had to avoid a few, stumbling. They didn't know how many tumbled down; the rain lasted some slow minutes; Shady crumbled to the ground and startled as one fell just next to him, legs slayed; soon a pile of now inarticulate bodies were around him, sliding over themselves and falling to the ground or closer to him. It was a miracle a corpse hadn't fallen on top of the Sheikah in the first place...

In the carriage, it was the silence of a tomb, broken by fits of nervous hiccups from Arven and sniffles from Annabelle, the corpse of the spider that had attacked Eshé had been pushed away from them all, towards the entrance... Arven had ripped open the desert girl's shirt under Annabelle's frozen look. Shady jumped in, looking at his protege and the two other girls, lost. Eshé's wound was already purulent with white and yellow goo, the center a palpitating, bloody red, but all that he could see was...

"She's alive."

He laughed, half-hysteric.

"She's alive!"

Annabelle's eyes flooded with tears as her uncle's face appeared at the entrance of the carriage, disheveled and looking unwell, covered in goo but healthy and alive... Arven's hand shook and she turned her head to vomit, the morning's nausea turning into a throbbing headache, and after she was done and the stench was rising she cried and hiccuped, all the emotions, the fear, crashing down on her. She didn't want to die... She didn't want anyone to die, no she didn't want to die...

"SHE HAD A DAMN SKULLTELA STING AND SHE'S ALIVE!"

Shady was boasting, gloating in the place of the person who was unconscious. He'd thought she was dead, dead at only thirteen, he'd blamed himself for his inattention and his unworthiness of their guard, unworthiness of his kind, his family, he'd felt so crushed but she was ALIVE! He could repair his errors, he could... he broke into silent tears, gagging and convulsing a bit, locking himself inside a bubble of relief. Thinking about how he'd never had to deal with life and death situations before, why, why hadn't he listened to his teacher some more, why had he been so lazy when they taught him to fight?

"She's alive..." he whispered, as if to reassure himself.

Reassure himself she was fine, with a hole in he diaphragm and puss bubbling around the rim. Arven heaved a last sob, then glared at her guardian, shaking her head and screaming:

"SHE NEEDS HELP!"

Sometimes, it only takes one thing, to save a person. What saved Eshénadoru this fateful morning was not Shady's scrambling intervention; it wasn't her fiery will that still clung to life from a deeply buried part of her unconscious, it was Arven Alethea Seymour's cry.

Without that yell, that frightened, that angry shout, the assembly would have stayed too long in this state of shock stupor; she wouldn't have been brought home on time. Without this cry, Shady wouldn't have been pushed out of the carriage, to go sit in the now bloody hay; Jacob wouldn't have kicked the still terrified horses to a resounding gallop.

And they did gallop, for over an hour; and at each too-loud rustling in the forest the crew started and jabs of fear pierced their hearts. Because they only needed a bit of bad luck, to end up under another Skulltula nest. Because what had decided their lives, today, was complete and utter fluke.

Arven was in deep concentration, she felt her tongue had tripled size and her mouth was dry, she didn't know why: but she was trying to remember a Spiritual healing spell, and chanting it in soft fragments. At each correct word, Eshé's wound diminished size a bit, some of the yellow goo disappearing; but her energy was slowly sapped and she ended up half asleep in a corner of the carriage, fighting to stay alert.

At one point they burst into much sparser woods and reached, using an earthy road that had sprung out from the vegetation, what seemed like an immense field lost in the middle of the forest. A wooden sign indicated: 'Ordon – Keep going – a day of carriage away'.

In the middle of the field, almost surrounded by a young and leaping river and protected by the shade of an immense groove of trees; was a gigantic mansion of stone and wood. It was build in a strange, peculiar way: the house was broken, two wings of the house joining in a perfectly square angle hugging the biggest oak the assembly, apart from Annabelle and Jacob, had ever seen; the simply majestic tree seemed to gladly give back the house's embrace, its branches ensnaring the entire first floor. Here and there cascades of light filtered through the leaves and illuminated the walls of the house in gold, or penetrated in the rooms to heat them with soft tenderness.

The house itself stood three stories tall, it had that sort of rustic, countryside look that all Hyruleans knew, but mixed with a giant serving of originality; the color of its tiled roof passed from grey to brown and red, to orange, and back to grey again, in some places the stone walls had been painted by what looked like the hands of children, or the wood carved, while in other corners it conserved its natural boldness. Round windows peaked at the panicky carriage from afar, most open and allowing fresh air to circulate, some closed and as polished as mirrors. Strange devices had been set on the walls for what looked like passing objects between floors, ropes and pulleys attached to the underside of the roof and wooden platforms resting beside various windows.

On the left of the mansion was an immense, wooden barn, barely out of the oak's reach; it wooden doors were wide open and distant figures looked up in surprise to them from their work.

The horses and the carriage clattered across a flat, stone bridge, waters rushing under them, and slowed to a screeching halt in front of the barn.

At once everything was set in motion.

Jacob leaped down from his perch and shouted at some to take care of the horses, others to warn George and their mother, and at the eldest to lend a hand, this was a grave situation, they had a seriously wounded young girl!

A sea of red and blond heads broke apart, children rushing in different directions while Annabelle jumped out of the carriage and Arven followed, feeling dizzy and still sick, headache more piercing than ever. Three russet-haired figures rushed forward, and the girl shouted at the two boys to take Eshé's frail body _carefully,_ no, not like that, and to bring her to the infirmary, George would know what to do!

A pair a blond teenager girls ran to Annabelle, looking a little older than Arven, and covered her with soft words and kisses, taking the shocked girl by both hands and leading her away; she was left alone with the redhead girl. The tall young woman strode over to her and said sharply:

"Hello, I'm Alix. Do you have any wounds?" 

She shook her head numbly, not really, realizing the situating, feeling completely lost, nauseous.

"Well, you still don't look good. Follow me."

And she tugged Arven by the arm, while the raven-haired teen detailed her insensibly. She looked to be around eighteen, nineteen; her hair was a short, plunging layered cut of deep scarlet; she had pursed lips, a beautiful, poised face and the same eyes as Annabelle, the ocean-blue, breathtaking kind. They quickly walked around the barn, Arven stumbling a few times, and reached the right angled house, entering a wide and fresh room by a completely incongruous round door.

On the floor were big, diamond shaped tiles of a soft, ruddy orange, the ceiling was wooden beams and the walls hard-edged stones; that's all she really noticed before crumpling to a seat in front of the enormous wooden table in front of her.

"Stay here," Alix snapped, before disappearing in a staircase to the left.

Arven waited on the bench that ran alongside the table like that of a canteen, feeling hollow. The ticking of a grandfather clock positioned to her right, beside some glass shelf holding the ordinary and precious porcelain dishes, unnerved her. Suddenly a big 'CUCKOO' resounded, almost causing her a heart attack, and she cried out in surprise before realizing it was simply, well, a... cuckoo. One o'clock, already...

She nervously laughed to herself, drumming two fingers along the table.

Then the soft padding of bare feet on the same stairs Alix had left through startled her again, and she tensed, turning around, to meet an embarrassed looking blond boy.

He looked like a real farmer. He hadn't had the time to change out of his work clothes, some tired chocolate overalls, and pieces of straw were still stuck in his hair, giving him a dreamy look like the ones Shady sometimes wore. His face was very close to Alix's, she could see the family air, but it was much softer, and he didn't have blue eyes, but funny hazel ones, the light brown in the center melting into gray-green around the edges.

He gently said, "hey, I'm Akin. Alix sent me. Your room isn't far."

She stood up, not really feeling her body, and followed him like a disjointed puppet, climbing up the stairs that veered back in a u-turn, before reaching the second story. Its polished, wooden floor was cool under her naked feet; she held her shoes in her hand, appreciating the touch.

Sunlight streamed from windows that randomly popped up on the walls; they took twisted, strange turns she didn't care to think about and passed many wide closets, small alcove and wide vases she imagined made the perfect hideouts for children, as if this house had been designed with them in mind.

Then Akin opened a door as rounded as the one she had entered the house by, and entered small but welcoming circular room. The ceiling, had been completely painted, decorated with so many details it was literally awe-inspiring and almost, frightening; she cast a numb but nonetheless amazed gaze at it, contemplating the drawing. Vines ensnared the rims of it, pink flowers painted on them every so often; in the middle was a blue summer sky where seemed to be playing children, some gazing down to the room with curious, infantile stares. In the part of the wall that was the furthest from here was a human sized alcove, at least in width and depths, even if she could have to stoop a bit to fit in. In it was a bed with agreeable albeit tacky horse patterned covers, they were used and mottled but appeared soft and comfortable. A smaller alcove with lavender sheets was placed a little higher up the ground, to its right.

Arven exhaustively took a few steps on the plush woolen rug that had been set on the floor, and Akin invited her to a mattress that had been hurriedly set down on the ground, probably for her usage.

She mumbled a thanks, lied down, almost falling, on the bed, and didn't remember anything else.

/o\


	4. Well-earned Rest

They now said, that the women close to the king were cursed.

His sister Looru had disappeared some thirteen years ago. His wife E'ideh of the First Family had died in childbirth. His daughter was plagued with an incurable sickness and had run away.

Tasha didn't know, or care much, if what the shallow females attending to court said was true. Or maybe she did... because if it was, she'd have somebody to blame, somebody to point and say: '_you_ are responsible for all our woes.'. Wouldn't it feel good? To think that the tragedy, that had befallen on them, Eshé's sickness, _her_ little Eshé's sickness, wasn't just pure and simple hazard?

Couldn't it have been, someone else, someone she didn't know, who was sick? Couldn't it have been someone else who's life was on the line? Someone who she'd learn the death of, maybe, with a sad smile, a grievous pang for the life of such a young one lost, but not the tearing bitterness, the bile she had now, knowing that her friend was off into nature, defenseless?

Couldn't it have been someone that didn't bring her here, kneeling, before a shattered king? He'd picked the pieces back together, but she felt raw, like staring at her reflection in a broken mirror.

"Rise, Tasha." 

His voice was tired. She stood; raised her gaze from the beautiful Hyrulean rug of blue and green, to look at his elegantly dressed waist. The commoners could only observe his feet; the Third Family his knees; the Second his waist and the First his chest, apart from the late E'ideh's closest relatives who had become of the king's own family. Such complicated things, that Eshé had always mocked with all her childish innocence...

Silence settled, she didn't know why; she was thinking of that stupid little _brat _of a moonface! Why'd she leave, why'd she leave Tasha alone, how could she risk her life when she was endangering their hearts alongside? How could people be possibly that _selfish?  
_

Her scarlet hair fell wavering around her head, hiding her from a stray ray of sunlight.

"It is one week and five days that my best trackers have been searching the desert,' he said, in an hoarser tone than should be normal. 'My advisers have been suggested, that I carry the search to Hyrule..."

His voice broke on the last syllable. There was a shudder of purple robes as he collected himself; she stayed rooted to the place. _Hyrule?_ But that little bullhead had never had any sense of direction, this was madness! _Madness_ from a mad king!

"I have sent an official delegation, to his Royal Majesty Daphnes-Nohansen XVIII."

And now his voice was so much cooler, so much smoother; saying the name of his counterpart, had made the father disappear and the king step forward. She nodded; nodded painfully, swallowing a lump in her throat.

"However I would like the search to start immediately. I cannot send a large party before having been granted the authorization, but lone warriors should go unnoticed enough."

He stepped forward, towards the young woman, who stayed stock still, not daring to move a hair. And against all conventions, against every deeply ingrained in them, their education, their mindset, he reached out two hands; and she thrust her pair of limbs forward too, fear swallowing her, fear of having done something wrong.

You cannot look at the king above his waist.

You cannot speak unless spoken to.

_  
You cannot touch the king.  
_

_You cannot touch the king._

__

He clasped her calloused palms in his wide, aristocratic fists, and hung on there; so tightly, like that would stop this instant from being dragged away from the flow of time, like this second of uncertainty where Eshé might still be alive, would last forever. Hanging on with the desperation of a father, that hadn't had much time, for his daughter, but who still found it, because... Between the two of them, it was the daughter, who's seconds were slipping away the swiftest.

"Tasha. Find my daughter."

His whisper was raw.

When she left the thrown room, the young woman crumpled to the ground, and bawled; in front of the guards, hurling aside dignity, intimacy, her pride. Because between the two of them, between the king and herself, between Ethan, Link who never had time for Eshé anymore, if anyone was to blame, it was her.

Tasha was the one who'd let Eshé out of her sight that night.

/o\

When Eshé awoke, she shrieked and jumped to a sitting position, heart thumping wildly in her chest, only to crash against a low wooden ceiling and fall back down, head bursting with pain. The spiders dancing in front of her eyes slowly vanished, fading into reality, as she clenched her fists to the point of digging her nails in her palm.

_Where am I? _she thought numbly.

Her hair was matted in almost black clumps, her whole body sweaty and stinking; her forehead was burning and she felt ravenous. She slapped her palm to her chest, where she thought the spider had stung her, but there was only, a small and circular, healthy pink scar tissue. The desert girl sighed with non-concealed relief, fully taking in her surroundings, for the first time.

Cool, pretty horse-patterned sheets rested against her thighs; she'd probably thrown the top of them off in the midst of her tossing and turning. She was in a sort of wide wooden alcove, that easily welcome her body in width and depth, but very apparently not in height...

The teenager scrambled out of the bed, landing on four paws in a small but welcoming circular room, that peacefully reminded her of hours reading books or quiet hugs with Tasha. She felt like she was in a turret; the walls were completely wooden, the ground covered by a plush rug, at one point on the rim of the circle there was a hole in the floor, and a ladder hanging from that. Shelves took up every space available, books, small devices, yarn balls, and other small trinkets littering them.

The ceiling was magnificent. It was like a dome, the dome of a chapel; painted with vibrant but agreeable colors and breathtaking detail. Flowers, vines, edged it, playfully dropping down on the top of the walls like the artist had meant for them to come to life, clouds drifted lazily in the blue heavens at the center and weird sort of children played on them. She noticed a few redheads, blonds, and a tiny brunette that surprisingly looked like... Annabelle.

To her left was a wide, human-sized mirror; she approached it with exhaustion, bending her tired neck to a more normal position, curious to see what she looked like after a giant-spider attack.

The first thing she noticed, was that if her chest was covered by a large black shirt, her legs were completely bare under a cotton underwear.

The second thing she saw, was an awkward looking blond boy staring at her, cheeks scarlet, from behind her reflection.

The third image that printed itself on her retina was that an _exact copy of herself _was floating behind the boy, making stupid faces and having the time of her life.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-" she yelled.

She turned around and pushed back the boy, kicking him, trying to get at her reflection, but only managing to hit the living body in front of it. He stuttered, shocked, trying to work himself to the door, but suddenly a young redhead woman stormed into the room and grabbed him violently by the hair.

"AKIN! What do you think you're _doing!_ She's HALF-NAKED you PERVERT!"  
"B-b-but I only heard her shout, I was coming to see if she was alri-"  
"_Get out of the room!_"

And the redhead kicked the blond in his butt – a violent move Angela would have been proud of, really – forcing him to the door and into the hallway. She turned around, ocean-blue eyes flashing.

"Excuse my brother! He still has trouble understanding the difference between male and female sometimes!"

Eshé acquiesced, half-looking at her reflection, who was nodding with an exaggerated serious air beside the terrifying woman, half-looking at said redhead, who introduced herself.

"Anyways, I'm Alix. Are you feeling alright?"

Eshé immediately felt a well-worn reply bubbling on her lips: she was falling back in her old ways; trying to convince all the doctors, Tasha, her father, the world, that she was okay. It was, an automatism, something so deeply ingrained... "Yes I'm fine!"

But the desert girl's reply went unheeded when her interlocutor crossed the room over to her, and brusquely flattening her cool palm against her forehead, said, "Yes, your fever's broken down, even if it's still present."

"I assure you I'm fi- huh?"

"What,' said Alix, smiling dryly, 'you're not used to being told you're okay?"

There was an awkward pause, and Eshé dropped her gaze, mumbling:

"Not really."

"Well in any case you really need a bath,' decreed the young woman. Beside her Eshé's reflection held her nose in a pretentious way that reminded her of Arven. 'It might help break your fever down some more."

And help take away the sweat, but the teenager supposed Alix was too polite to say that. She let herself be guided to the hole in the floor, then climbed down the ladder after Alix. The bathroom they landed in, was to say the least, peculiar.

Its only access was the ladder they'd climbed down; it was completely round and absolutely everything was made in wood, something inconceivable for Eshé who was used to seeing it as a very rare product, only acquired through importation or weeks scouring the desert. In the center of the room waited a bathtub that looked like a cauldron, the only metallic object in the circular space – underneath was a sort of stove that Alix set about to lighting, blowing the match out and throwing it in a hole in the floor that certainly acted like a garbage can. To her right waited a wide sink and yet more shelves. An immense, arching, stained glass window occupied a whole length of the wall, ghostly rays of light filtering through it and washing the room into a rainbow of colors – it was only a fit bathroom for the artist she supposed had decorated the ceiling of the bed chamber.

"You've been out two days,' Alix informed her. 'We used almost the entirety of our red potion stock on your wound, it's a wonder you made it here alive at all."

Eshé contemplated this, suddenly realizing she was shivering. Like Arven, she found the redhead beautiful, and she felt uneasy, with her stinking body, disheveled look and greasy hair, in front of the elegant young woman who almost seemed to dance when she walked. 

Alix pointed to her clothe she'd set for her on top of wide, braided basket that probably served for dirty laundry; a cotton towel was set beside that. Then she blew out the fire in the stove, turned to the teenager, and said:

"It would have been better to take a cold bath for your fever, but I've heated it a bit, because chilled water is just torture."

Eshé nodded gratefully and Alix made a move to leave the room; but at the last moment the redhead turned around and critically observed:

"You might just look pretty enough to explain Akin's blush, after this bath."

And, laughing, she climbed the ladder. Eshé, scarlet and feeling very hot, quickly undressed and scurried to the bath, mulling over the young woman's stupid comment. The warm liquid gave off a slight steam and she relaxed completely in it, abandoning herself, reflecting on how long it had been since she'd properly appreciated a bath... gazing at the magnificent window... noticing her reflection hovering on top of her and letting out a small cry of surprise.

"You might just look pretty enough to explain Akin's blush, after this bath," the specter crowed, imitating a peacock in midair and fluffing her mane of brown curls.

"W-w-what are you doing here?" stammered Eshé, blushing as she realized she was naked.

"It's fiiiine, I'm a giiiirl," said the reflection, rolling her eyes.

"Y- you're not a girl you're an imaginary friend!' shot back the teenager; then she covered her eyes with her hands. 'Din I'm seeing an imaginary friend at thirteen, what a wreck..."

There was a moment of silence, then the ghost sighted dryly.

"Where you were certainly happier to see me when you were little..."  
"It's not the _same_, Boo!' exclaimed Eshé, slamming her hands down on the water. 'Back then I actually thought you _existed_!"  
"But I _do _exist, brat," dramatically announced her reflection.

The desert girl burst out into an ironic laugh, a retort already bubbling on her lips. Then she froze. She couldn't feel her giggle. _She couldn't feel her chest moving_.

"W-what?" she stuttered, palpating her scar with her hands, staring at it.

Eshé twisted around in the water, coughed, wheezed, tried several things, but still she couldn't feel her chest. She could breath fine, do all those things fine, her brain sent the correct impulses, but the whole trunk was numb. She looked up at Boo, worried. The specter was gazing down at her with serious brown eyes. Eshé numbly noted, that if her reflection looked like her in all aspects, hair, round face, tanned skin and body stature, her eyes were much darker, intense.

"Your wound was grave," began the specter, but Eshé interrupted:  
"Will I ever feel my chest again?"

Strangely, she didn't feel panicked. She felt almost removed, from the situation; since her youngest age she'd known that her sickness would just get worse and worse; it attacked her nervous system and some of her organs, it ate her from the inside and gradually weakened the body she'd tried so hard to strengthen with sports. The spider venom had just slightly quickened the process, that was all... 

One day, Eshé would simply, have an attack, worse than the others, maybe in her sleep, and not wake up. And she knew that. She knew that, her body would stop functioning, only her memory would remain, but even that... She didn't want her relatives, her friends, to grieve for her, the best she could wish for them was to completely forget her. 

"It will get better,' replied Boo. 'But it won't be like before."

Eshé contemplated that information, for a second, twirling her hands in the water; resting them on the surface where it felt like jelly. She could live with that. It wouldn't stop her on journey, she'd swore she'd see the world and she would! She'd run to her dying breath, leaving all her worries behind her in the tumble, she'd do like she'd always did! Run, run, run, run...

She took a shuddering breath.

Other pressing questions came to her mind with the steam that floated up to her cheeks, and she opened her mouth, pouring them all out:

"Why did you come back now? Why did you leave in the first place? Were you awake while I was asleep?"

Boo laughed, doing somersaults in the air and floating upside down. Strangely her hair didn't follow her movements, it stayed stuck around her ghostly head like if she'd been normally standing: gravity apparently didn't affect apparitions.

"Well to reply to your questions in the correct order, I came back now because your will was too occupied staying alive and dealing with the venom to keep me out any longer; and I left because of _you_,' she added accusingly. 'Your little pest of a mind decided that 'imaginary friends' weren't for big girls like you, so you kicked me out."

Eshé snorted, the ghost must really be defenseless if she could just suddenly negate her and throw her out of the house. Boo scowled:

"Not true. You just have a bit of a fiery will, brat. At any rate I _was_ awake when you slept, yes, I technically never sleep."  
"Did you watch me?" asked Eshé, indignant.

Boo scoffed, "Of course not, it's too boring. I went downstairs to take a peek at the family. Never seen so many children at once."

Curiosity devoured the desert girl; being an only child she'd never really had any brotherly or sisterly interactions – even if Tasha had functioned as a surrogate, bossy big sis Eshé had still been part of her job – and she wanted to see how it was like.

"Well, wash your hair first," her specter interrupted pointedly.

Eshé scowled, she plunged in the water and fiercely passed her hands through the curls, taking out the grime but only managing to create more knots. She bubbled in the bath for a few seconds, protected from the outside world by the water, washed in a rainbow of colors by the stained glass window. She only had a single question left now, she supposed. The most obvious one: she wondered why she hadn't asked first thing.

The teenager brusquely came out of the water, and turning to stare accusingly at Boo, said:

"Well if you're not an imaginary friend, _what_ areyou?"

The specter chuckled, and eluded, "There are certain things not meant for the ears of young girls like you." 

Eshé scowled, about to press the issue, but eventually admitting she wouldn't get anymore answers than she already had. The runaway climbed out of the bath, dried herself softly and dressed in the wide shirt and comfortable grey short Alix had issued her.

Then she scurried up the ladder, willing her body to _work_, and leaving her troubles behind in the steam of the bathroom.

/o\ 

Arven had been cooking for _two days_. Quite literally. There was always someone to feed around here, meals to prepare, leftovers to reheat.

The moment she'd woken up, late in morning, she'd rushed down stairs – getting herself lost in the process and ending up on the other side of the house –, disorientated, to find that: first of all, Shady was fine – they'd painstakingly sucked the venom back out of his thigh – Annabelle had recovered from the shock; and last of all, Eshé was alive.

She'd burned through the night, the man they all called Uncle George keeping vigil, pressing cold cloths to her forehead and patting bandages soaked with red potion and antidotes on her wound... At that point the poison couldn't be sucked out of her body, even if Arven's healing spell a few hours before had helped, it was too diluted in her blood; only Eshé could win the fight against the venom.

And she'd won it. She'd progressively cooled down the next day, and the night after that, to barely above the average temperature. 

Of course, while all this was happening... Arven had been cooking.

It was, just something ingrained in her; when things were far beyond her, when she felt lost, she concentrated on one simple task and threw all her energy in it, to forget the rest of the world. She pushed things back, ran away, hoping things would solve themselves on their own while she calmly waited, like a princess counting days until the coming of her charming prince. Like a stupid, stupid princess, staring at her dragon and hoping if she prayed hard enough, it'd go away. 

She guessed, that it was stupid, that the problems weren't always as obvious as the dragon and the solution not as appealing as the savior of her stories... She knew that however hard the princess prayed, the draco wouldn't go away. But some part of her still held on to that belief, branded to her brain at school... If you work hard enough, your efforts pay.

So she cooked. She worked hard, and sometimes harder than that, put all her efforts in cooking.

The Young family's kitchen was a large and cool room, still echoing from the complaints of hungry children or the ferocious growling of stomachs. It was like a wide rectangle diagonally split by a massive stone counter; you could bypass it on either side to access a storage room that was dug into the ground, making it around a meter lower than the main cooking area. The chamber was luminous, with wooden walls and a stone floor that rung clearly under her busy feet; large windows filtered cascades of light when they weren't blocked by the leaves of the oak. A branch of it had even grown through a window and now overlooked the storage area; the strong bough gave off a powerful, relaxing smell that permeated everything to the very walls of the kitchen.

"Tinan, be careful what you're doing, you're going to cut yourself!" exclaimed a loud voice.

Arven turned from her garlic and olive oil fried aubergines to find a large blond woman scolding her son, who was finely chopping coriander – and looking out the window at the same time. The young man was around sixteen, with a slight, timid corpulence, ocean blue eyes permanently harboring a dreamy, faraway look, and a goatee: those were his most notable traits. In the few time she'd been here she'd heard Alix and most of her other siblings throw out every possible nicknames and insults at him, making her feel lucky she'd only earned 'oyster': cowface, slimtard, blondie, and the list went on... 

"Sorry mom!" replied Tinan, smiling absently.

He turned his attention back to his task while Arven continued stirring her eggplants, resting her free hand on the rough wooden counter. His mother came over to her:

"Everything alright, dear?"

"Yes Emmie,' she answered cheerfully. 'They're looking good aren't they?"  
"Well, they _are _from our garden," grinned the older woman.

Arven acquiesced and she turned around to continue her work on the meat. Emmie, as she insisted everyone called her, was a strong, no-nonsense kind of lady, she was round faced, with Akin's same hazel irises, a short up-turned nose and an easy smile; her age probably hovered around the mid-forties. Relaxed in nature, Arven had noticed she let the children organize themselves together instead of policing them all the time, readily trusting Alix with the family, may it be for better or for worse: she just didn't have the time to be there for everyone. Simply looking at her, made everyone melt; she had a hearty, motherly sort of aura about her, maybe because of the laughing wrinkles she'd earned through the years, or the slight surplus of kilos her many pregnancies had charged her with...

Suddenly the door opened in a wide rush, Arven turned around, raising her eyebrows, to find that a tall oaf of a boy had entered the room, grinning, brown curls flying. Akin was trotting after him, smiling slightly, he tried keeping his friend back but the tallest bowed with a flourish, gazing amorously at Arven, and announced:

"Are you sure you do not want to keep us company, my dear?"

She rolled her eyes with good-humor, and replied, "I'm _cooking_, Cale, so if you want to have a meal on your table this noon, you'd better not bother me."

The boy looked disappointed; his green eyes fell for an instant and he dramatically sighted, "But, but my sweety pie you _always _cooking! Will you not come outside with us for a second?' then, he pulled out a hand he'd been holding behind his back the whole time, revealing a bouquet of dandelions: 'I have picked flowers for you!"

Arven rolled her eyes a second time, meeting Akin's disillusioned gaze with her own, and was about to reply when Emmie intervened graciously:

"Oh come along Cale, you'll see Arven at lunch. Are you staying here tonight again?"

The boy turned, bouquet still in his outstretched arm, seeming distracted for a second:

"Yes, please, I mean I hope I'm not bothering you-"  
"If you were we would have stopped this years ago, hun. Don't worry..." gently replied the mother, hazel gaze sliding over the uneasy figure of the boy.

Then she concluded under Arven's thankful pupils: 

"Now get out of my kitchen!"

The two boys, Akin futilely pulling at Cale's arm, lingered for a moment on the threshold to the dining room. In the end Cale let himself be dragged out, but not before throwing the dandelion bouquet at Arven and shouting: "we will be back my love!"

Tinan smiled, amused, and Emmie turned to clap the raven-haired girl's back, telling her he was always like that and not to worry. Arven sighed and giggled a bit, before returning to her aubergines.

Well, she certainly had an admirer. She remembered their first meeting: she'd been going to the infirmary to find Shady and see Eshé, but she'd stumbled down the stairs and almost fell; he'd caught her and kissed her knuckles. She'd have laughed if she could have, but it would have been mean, so she kept the snickers for later times where she was alone.

To say that his first words to her had been, "Oh, well even angels fall down the stairs..." 

/o\

Shady grumbled, exhausted.

_Of course_ he'd lend a hand. How could he refuse? He'd completely recovered – thanks to George – they'd needed a replacement while the man took care of Eshé, so _of course _he'd help out.

Didn't these people understand he needed sleep? He'd woken up at six o'clock this morning to feed those damn chicken and pigs and cows and even the pigeons had gotten some of it, damnit, he was half-dead with tiredness! And he was _hungry. _He'd only had two helpings of bacon and eggs this morning – more would have made him sleepy according to Jacob – so he really hadn't wanted to work in the fields. But after feeding those brats of useless animals – watching them stupidly loaf around while he had to work for them had almost been too much, but he'd _patiently _held out – he'd had to pick eggplants for the kitchens, and garlic, and coriander, and all those other things he didn't know the name of. Arven was cooking, it was much less tiring and it was indoors, why didn't _he_ get to cook?

… Maybe because it would imply, knowing how to do so in the first place. Ah.

Yes, the Sheikah's mood neared miserable, but mother nature certainly didn't agree! In this late summer morning, the sun was shining; big, fluffy clouds lazily drifted about it the sky; the birds were singing, the fields softly dancing under the dry whisper of the wind; bees buzzed around to pollinate the many flowers of the Young's domain, small critters fled for their lives, purchased by the big house cats. They certainly had things to eat, contrary to him...

Shady's stomach rumbled painfully, under the amused gazes of two twins, Vivian and Ariel. The boys seemed about twelve, mischievous expressions on their round faces and the glinting of future, devilish plans in their hazel eyes – they'd get perfectly along with Eshé, he judged. Every single family member had warned him away from them – except that antipathetic looking blond, Jason – as they were known to play the worst and most vicious pranks.

The Sheikah sighed and turned his attention back to the task at hand: harvesting winter wheat.

It was a long and grueling task, that he, inexperienced city man, wasn't even close to achieving correctly. He'd pass the detail of it, because really it was horrible. The young white-haired man listened to the voices of the ten or so people gathered around him: George, who'd deemed Eshé recovered enough for him to leave her side, Jacob, sturdy and experienced; the triplet redheads, Alix, Eben and Peter; Janis and Samantha, twins of seventeen years of age blessed with long cascades of golden hair; said antagonistic, aggressive and pimple-riddled young boy, Jason; and finally the two devils.

George, a man with a neatly trimmed beard of jet black hair, had informed him only a little over half of the children were gathered.

It had made Shady's head spin. How could _so much children _be concentrated in the same place? Children pooed, cried and stunk, children ran outside without asking and could easily disappear into the woods, children argued and whined and threw tantrums, children were _horrible_. Their conversations regularly burst to his over-solicited ears, like fresh gusts of wind fading away under the summer heat:

"Cale's parents are away again, he might spend more time at home."  
"I can't believe these people, abandoning their son like that."

"Peter, why are you so _far_ ahead? Eben, stop _lagging_ behind!"

"Oh, don't be so gloomy Sam, he'll come back eventually!"  
"But he _abandoned _meee..."  
"He joined the army, the first year they're _always _mobilized away from home!"  
"Why, oh whyy..."

"Dude, you put a _mouse _in Tinan's room?"  
"Well I couldn't find the rat I talked to you about so I had to make-do."  
"But we won't get any sleep tonight, he's freaking terrified of them, like a girl!"  
"Aw Viv', we can just watch, it'll be so fun."

All those conversations, those different personalities and names, gave him a headache. He bent down to grasp a particularly rebel stalk of wheat, mulling over the few hours of sleep – eight at most – he'd get tonight, when a sharp point pierced his palm. He cried out, tens multicolored heads whipped around to stare at him, and stumbled back to reveal a difficultly flying bumblebee.

He cursed, holding his throbbing hand, while George hurried over, casting a dark grey gaze down at his palm.

"Well, looks like got stung good."

He pulled the stinger out brusquely with his finger, earning a pained gasp from Shady, and told him:

"I think you know how to get to the infirmary. There should be an icepack and some calming lotions over there, press both on the sting."

Shady nodded and, cursing farms and mother nature – once he'd gotten out of the stern George's earshot of course –, turned around to face the house. He passed an arched stone bridge, just next to a small watermill they hadn't noticed in the rush of their arrival. The stones were flecked in darker grey by droplets of water, forming a mottled carpet under his lightly soled feet. Shady, sighing and glaring at his stung palm, contoured the edge of the gigantic oak and entered the house by the dining room – the chamber that Arven, unknowingly to him, had also used to penetrate the mansion the first time.

The infirmary was just in the corner that the house created, ensnared between the bakery part and George and Jacob's room – they formed an adorable couple according to the love-sick and teary Samantha. He padded alongside the enormous table, and opened a door right of the stairs leading to most of the rooms; in front of him was a long corridor of polished wood.

A few dozen of steps later he turned right and silently slid a discreet, elegantly carved panel, to enter the infirmary. It was a wide room, surprisingly only made of stone, when the rest of the house was warm wood. Wide, sharp arches constituted the roof, giving the impression of being in a church; his feet echoed clearly against the floor as he made his way across the sparsely furnished area to a glass closet. Large windows made up almost the entirety of the outside wall, opposite of Shady; they were colored and stained, so much he had the impression to walk on moving sands.

Four carefully made beds rested some ten meters away to his right; it was there Eshé had been placed the previous nights, before being moved to some child's room. Fours beds. Fours bed just _waiting for him._

But he couldn't! He had work in the fields and he had to find Arven and start seriously teaching her, revising lessons and starting practical exercises since she seemed to cruelly lack real-life experience... He'd been neglecting that since the start of their journey, judging that the best teacher she could have was her own self... After all the girl had gotten A+ at each and every single test she'd done in her life, what more did she have to learn? Just thinking about that gave him a headache.

Deuh... The Sheikah wishfully sighted, staring at the inviting beds. They could do just fine in the fields without him right?

He considered the issue for a few seconds, then sloppily grinned and decided that _yes_, they'd perfectly manage. A short laugh erupted from his lips as he imagined Arven before the same choice; she'd have returned to the fields without hesitation even if she hated that, she was bound by a too great sense of duty to just cheat and laze around. And though that was perfectly honorable... Shady thought she needed to learn to relax, think outside the boundaries life had imposed to her!

The clean, cool sheets of the bed softly welcomed his philosophical thoughts in a gentle groan. He rested his head against the pillow, closing his eyes. No matter Arven didn't yet realize it, she was going to learn how to be her own self sooner or later...

/o\

Cale was inconsolable. Akin had tried his best, his very best, to distract his friend, but to no avail: the dark-haired boy was utterly and irremediably fixated on Arven.

"... the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, ah, my dear Arven, our children would be as beautiful as you..."

Leaving the poor blond to bemusedly stare at his elder as he continued his rant. They'd gone in the tree-house because they had spent the entire morning cleaning the first floor of the mansion, and had undoubtedly earned some time to rest before lunch. Leaves rustled around them, the sun dappling their bodies and warming them gently; they were on the hugest branch of the tree that was probably more than a meter wide, and, back to the trunk, they almost sensed the life of the oak wrapping them with its fatherly consciousness.

Good thing too, because Akin didn't have a father.

His mother had always wanted children. Many of them. But that wasn't something, that many men around here, desired; she'd given birth to the triplets, and their father had run away scared; she'd had the twins with another, but again her boyfriend had disappeared. It was the same thing, with each passing, supposedly courageous man, they never wanted to assume the responsibility of a family, cowards fleeing in the name of their manhood and their pride. Such pride, for miserable weasels.

Akin blinked.

These people were so irresponsible. He and his siblings were lucky, that his mother's brother Jacob, and his own husband George, had stuck around; without them they'd be lost. But even them, he could see some of his family suffer, he knew, that Jason was hateful for a reason, he knew Alix was bossy and snappy to make up, for this empty father's spot, he knew Annabelle felt loss in the fray of brothers and sisters and needed someone to hold on to, someone she found in him, but that wasn't totally it... Because however Akin tried to be a help, a father to his youngest siblings, it couldn't make up for what was lost. He'd hold them in his arms, but not be tall enough; he'd carry them on his shoulders but it wouldn't be high enough, it wouldn't be enough, never enough... 

But he didn't have it the worst. Not compared to Cale. He couldn't complain, he didn't have the right to, that's what Alix had told him. He couldn't complain. He hadn't complained. Not once in his life.

"Hey you know what Cale? Jeremy's losing his first teeth."  
"Oh really?' inquired the boy, breaking off his tirade. 'I remember when he was growing them, it was a real pain!"  
"I know,' smiled Akin 'But the worst were Lalie and Lilie."

He twirled a hay stem in between his thumbs, then stuck it to his mouth, suddenly looking like a real farmer's son. He asked, "What do you think, about the newcomers?"

"Of my beautiful Arven dear?"

"Uhhhhhhh yeah. And the others too!"

"Ohh, well what do _you_ think?"

"They look nice...' replied Akin, absently. 'They look about our age..."

"Oooooh _I know!_" Cale suddenly cried out gleefully, arms raised wildly.

"What?" asked his blond friend, shocked.

"I'll take the lovely dovely Arven to be my girlfriend, and you can have the other one once she's recovered! We'll make a perfect and renowned _cute _little pair of couples of LOVE!" the tall boy shouted dramatically, rising to a standing position, hand on his heart and a... rose... in his mouth?

"What?" repeated Akin, even more shocked.

Cale took a few steps forward to bend before him and looked at him condescendingly, sun framing his coppery curls in gold.

"You'll understand when you're older," he sighed as if the blond was utterly beyond his help.

And he started another rant on Arven will Akin wondered at the tanned girl he had seen in his room this morning, and how she'd violently kicked him and punched him. Things certainly weren't looking good if she thought he was a pervert, in truth he'd just heard her shriek and, used to helping his younger siblings with their woes, rushed to find out what the problem was about. Unfortunately before he could explain the situation Alice had stormed in and started shouting at him... Well it was true the stranger had been... in underwear... but...

A loud, clear ring suddenly sounded; the pure noise of a bell. Out in the field ten different heads perked up and turned into a single direction; Cale even interrupted his theatrical love declaration – whose only audience was the tree – to glance at the house. Twelve stomachs rumbled in synchronization, twelve bodies simultaneously rushed to the house in a frenzied scramble.

Time for lunch.

/o\

Eshé easily found herself in front of the staircase leading to the ground floor. Well, Boo knew the way and whispered the directions in her ear, but what was the importance of that distinction, it was the same thing! The ghost stared at her, disillusioned, and cynically murmured, 'well, looks like someone's getting too big for her own boots'.

"Oh shut up Boo, you're annoying!"  
"You shut up! Just because nobody but you can hear me, doesn't mean others can't hear _you_, you're going to get wound up in an asylum! Just whisper it or think it, we're one and the same I'll make it out."

Eshé huffed indignantly, turning her back on the specter, and padded downstairs; turning along with the steps to find herself before... an unexpected sight. Twenty-one pair of eyes met her amber irises unblinkingly. She tumbled down the last few steps, a bit nervous, in the resounding silence of the assembly, finishing on some cool stone tiles.

"I told you,' said Boo, smirking. 'Too many children." 

The apparition couldn't have know, with how much fervor Shady agreed.

Then it was the torrent. Almost everybody stood up; a black-bearded man came to check her forehead, Boo told her it was George; Annabelle rushed up to hug her and monopolize her left arm, two young little blonds clumsily sprinted after her to fight for her right limb, curls bouncing to the rhythm of their synchronized shouts – "Lalie and Lilie, they always fight, the brats" –; a little blond kid with an adorable angel's face tried to catch her shirt, hanging on the rim of it; the boy who'd discovered her this morning came up to her – "Akin, he's like the ambulance around here, one call and he runs over" – she murmured a hoarse excuse to him; and more she couldn't count, older ones whose appellations she lost track of in the midst of all those hugs and shouts.

She was brought to the table and sat at the head of it, and the other end she could see an imposing and hearty-looking blond woman, probably the mother of them all; to the right of the lady was Shady and she was glad to see he was alright. Immediately next to Eshé were: on her left, Arven, oddly smiling as she took in the desert girl's recovered state, and a weird tall guy with bronze girls and what looked like hearts in his green eyes each time he took a single glance at Arven. Next to said raven-haired girl, was Akin, a faraway look on his face as he gazed at the ceiling of the house.

A hospitable voice stopped her contemplation, breaking through the expectant silence that had settled around the table:

"Good morning and welcome to our house, Eshé, we hope you've recovered well,' the woman smiled. 'My name is Emmie and I am the mother of all those little monsters...' there she silence the protests with a glare worthy of a killer, making the runaway shiver, and added: 'you and your friends are welcome for as long as you need, to recover. I trust someone will show you around, if you need any help, please call us."

Suddenly the silence became tense. Emmie raised a fork to the sky, and boomed:

"To your plates!"

And brusquely the wide room was filled with noises of meat being cut, people gulping, chewing, for the grossest spitting, and in general the noise of a large assembly eating. Intrigued glances were regularly shot at Eshé; she decided not to take heed of them and instead concentrate on what was in front of her. Her plate was about twice as wide as anything she'd ever seen: on it, strips of beef, pieces of fried chicken, aubergines, tomatoes stuffed with rice and ground pork, olives, baked potatoes with cream, red, yellow, green peppers and garlic, a small portion of grilled fish... Everything smelled so good, of cooking oil, spices and pepper, that she couldn't resist eating any longer and devoured the whole plate twice as fast as she normally ate. Boo wandered outside, disgusted, melting into the stone wall and muttering to Eshé to just call if she needed her.

The meal went on in silence until the plates were scraped clean. Then individual conversations broke out, brothers and sisters arguing on who had stolen _what _from who's plate, on the chores and on disappeared clothe, in short stuff Eshé supposed they always talked about. The boy to her right asked her dreamily:

"So you're Eshé right? Are you friends with my Arven dearest?" 

The two girls, without any hesitation, replied in perfect synchronicity: "NO!"

Akin and Cale looked at each-other, shocked. The brown-haired guy, couldn't figure out how his gentle, sweet Arven had transformed into this... scowling and glaring monster... What was it with that strange Eshé girl that transformed her like that?

"Well, Akin and I are childhood friends," he said uneasily.

But already the girls weren't listening to him:

"Oh well how very nice of you, I've barely recovered and you start being a pain!"  
"How convenient of you to say that, it was much better when you were _still asleep!_"  
"What, you wanted me to die, that's what you're saying?"  
"Of course not stop deforming my words, I'm maybe blind but you must be deaf!"  
"No I perfectly know what I heard!"  
"Not tru-"

"Won't you two retards close your STINKTRAPS!" roared a blond further down the table.

Earning himself a "JASON!" from Emmie and a violent spoon-whack from Alix, seated across him.

"YOU, SHUT UP!" yelled back the two girls, hair whipping as they turned to cast a ghastly stare at the boy.

To his credit he didn't blink; but then one of the little blond twins was tugging at his hair and shouting: 'don't be mean to the guests!' with an angry pout. He glowered at her before curling back in his chair, looking gloomy. 

Cale turned to Akin, commenting:

"Well Jason's still not getting better."  
"No... I don't think he ever wi-"

To their surprise the girls turned to them and Eshé hotly huffed:

"He could use six months in the desert to teach him politeness."  
"More than six months,' added Arven, 'a whole year wouldn't be enough."  
"Yeaaah, why's he like that anyways?"  
"I don't know,' awkwardly whispered Akin, shooting his older brother a glance. 'It's always been like that."  
"How can you even tolerate that?" asked Arven, sympathizing with the plight without really knowing, what it was like.

The blond boy gave a pause and shot a malicious glance at Cale, that the copper-curled boy gave back with a wide grin. They were, probably recalling a shared, happy memory; with their amused looks, you could tell they had spent their whole childhood together, they were spoiled for choice. It brushed a deep, deep part of the two girls' subconscious, for a tiny fraction of a second, that they could share the same kind of amazing bond; but that concern was quickly overwhelmed by their new common number one enemy: their rude aggressor Jason.

"We mostly let Alix deal with him, she's the only one with enough of a temper here to do that," said Akin to reply to Arven's question.

The raven-haired girl nodded gravely. From that point on the conversation naturally drifted to other subjects:

"Have you ever traveled out of the forests?"  
"I've been to Kakariko one or two times,' replied Cale, 'to follow my parents. But never to Castleton..."  
"Well I've delivered wheat to other parts of the country, but I haven't seen much..."  
"I want to travel the whole world!" loudly declaimed Eshé.

Soon the siblings mobilized to clean the dishes collected the plates, cutlery, glasses of water and bottles, and swept the tablecloth off. Arven stood up and said she wanted to help in the kitchens, Cale amorously suggested he follow her but she gently told him she also had to speak with Shady... her heart beating twice as fast just at the mention of ruddy-eyed, tired man's name. Eshé stuck her tongue out at her, noticing the sudden change in her voice, and rolling her eyes the slim girl left the room.

Akin and his friend explained Eshé they'd be cleaning the second and third floor this afternoon, they asked her if she wanted them to show her around – without working, so she wouldn't tire herself – and she gratefully accepted, following them up the stairs. Soon she was lost in the midst of the twisting and turning, the boys surely leading her through many strange rooms and funky corridors with as much confidence from Cale as from Akin. She hoped Boo would be able to guide her back to her room – which she found out was Akin's and Annabelle's, but the latter was sleeping with the twins Lalie and Lilie tonight to make room for Arven and Cale.

They arrived in an immense, sunlit library. The room was so close to the gigantic oak that guarded the house, that it had _become _the oak; the walls had been built around the tree and fresh boughs grew inside the chamber, serving as shelves to support rows of books, bearing the weigh of the ceiling, used as hangers for a dozen of hammocks, sheets and heavy covers, the relics of forgotten hideouts. Wide holes in the wall permitted rivers of light to pour into the room. A few couches and even wide beds had been arranged about the chamber so as to offer yet other choices of resting places for tired readers; running along the entirety of the left wall and spanning its entire eight was a gargantuan bookshelf. Each of its stories had a metal railing, used as a sort of track for the many ladders that offered the way to the army of novels. Eshé counted, maybe twelve of them, that reached so high it made her head spin; luckily for brave climbers, certain levels of the library could also be accessed using the wide branches of the tree, permitting a breathing place after such arduous ventures into the heights of literacy.

Akin, unfazed by this incongruous and breathtaking spectacle, turned to the left to fetch a pair of brooms and light garbage cans, and offered one duo to Cale. 

"There was a lot of wind last week so a lot of leaves fell down on the ground," he explained calmly to the copper-curled, who was pulling a defeated face.

Poor boy. His one and unique love wasn't here to see his housework exploits and he'd have to rake up a room as big as his backyard. Tragic destiny.

The boys set to cleaning the room and Eshé stuck around a bit, picking random books and reading their back covers, but not daring to climb up the ladders. They made small talk but she could see she was distracting the boys, so she told them she'd be off exploring, assuring them she'd manage to make it back down for dinner. The desert runaway quietly left the room, closing the door to find herself in a long corridor.

She walked softly on the creaking wood. The polished planks still cracked with mad dashes to the bathroom and frenzied games of tag or hide-and-seek; the soft echoes of the past mingling with her own slow steps as she curiously opened doors and gazed at family portraits. She felt, a wave of nostalgia flood her, before it would have been her wildly chasing Tasha through her kingdom's corridor. She wondered how the young woman was doing, how her father was doing; deep down she knew that running away would have been the only solution possible for her but she still rued the backlash it certainly had caused, for her friends and family.

"You don't have to blame yourself you know," came a murmur as she opened yet another door to find herself in front of a wide closet stuffed with outgrown clothes.

She started, turning around to face Boo, her dark brown eyes piercing her own amber pair.

"I don't," the runaway retorted tartly.

"Then stop regretting things that are past, you can't change them. Isn't that what you always told Tasha concerning your sickness?" 

Eshé took a deep breath, she gazed haughtily at the ghost, who she noted was now dressed exactly like her, and said:

"I don't regret. If I regretted I'd run back home. I don't care."

"Good,' snorted Boo. Then she added much more seriously: 'You made yourself a promise remember, honor it." 

Eshé started, she gazed up at the supernatural entity with wide eyes and demanded accusingly, "How do you know about that?"

The specter chuckled and smiled mysteriously, almost sadly.

"I already told you, that there are certain things, not meant for the ears of young girls like you..."

/o\

The rest of afternoon and dinner, went by without too much trouble. Eshé managed to find her way back down in time to join the party attending dinner; Candid was recovered enough to eat along with the rest and she got to meet him, along with Angela. She happily thanked him for the intervention that had saved all their lives – secretly dubious as to the fighting abilities of such a frail and oblivious looking young man – and joined Arven, Cale and Akin around the head of the table. 

The girls could participate in basic conversations as long as they didn't talk too directly to each-other, of course as soon as morality or important issues came up they would invariably disagree, but such situations were mostly avoided thanks to Cale's cunning sense of words and love of Arven, and Akin's quiet smiles and naive comments. 

After dinner, the band made their way upstairs to Akin's now empty room, they brushed their teeth, and went through other similar formalities – such as changing into pajamas, which was done awkwardly, with Eshé and Arven doing so in the bathroom whilst half-judging, half-glaring each-other down; and Akin and Cale chitchatting with good-humor in the bedroom.

The four then settled down on their beds, the girls were laid down on the floor as far as they could be from each-other, and the boys shared Akin's alcove. They made small-talk, each individually drifting off to sleep, when suddenly Arven was struck by a holy illumination.

"We have to do a truth and dare!" she exclaimed excitedly, waking everyone up.

Eshé growled herself to a sitting position, she had finally gotten Boo to leave her alone for the night and now Arven was dragging her from sleep, again? She came back from the brink of death, yes sir, she was a martyr, yes sir, she deserved some sleep!

The boys sleepily hoisted themselves out of the alcove, Cale whining because he had banged his head on the wooden ceiling. They dropped down to the floor, still half-dreaming.

"Well no maybe not with dares," amended Arven, far in her own trip.

"What'd you wanna do that for?" sighed Eshé, still angry.

"To get to know each-other better!" the raven-head snapped back, blue eyes glowing with irritation in the moonlight.

Cale groaned softly. "That's an excellent idea, my wonder of wonders, but why not do that tomorrow morning?"

Arven, felt a pang in her heart at the mention of the next day. She closed her eyes ruefully and replied, "because tomorrow we'll all be swept off by our individual tasks and we'll completely forget it."

"And just what kind of questions to you want to ask?" grouchily demanded Eshé, still on the verge of lying back down on her mattress, but intrigued despite herself.

"Well for example,' said the teenager, swinging around to Akin who had stayed thus far silent: 'what's your greatest fear?"

The blond boy pondered this a bit, he looked around the room, hesitant to reveal it to two girls he was afraid would judge him, but meeting Cale's encouraging gaze he gathered his courage and replied:

"I... I don't want things to change."

A sort of uneasy quiet settled over the room. Each wondered at the word, even Cale considered them like he had considered them a thousand times. He knew, he'd understood that Akin had acutely felt the absence of his father when he grew up, he did everything to make up for the lack of paternal figure for the rest of his family, he worked part-time jobs at Ordon the rest of the year to earn money even if it was unneeded by his mother, to offer presents to his younger and even older siblings... Akin was a peace-maker, he often forgot himself, in others' troubles, and invested himself too much for his own good. He was scared that another brutal disappearance, like his father's or all his siblings' fathers, would rock his world again... at least that's what Cale thought, because the blond boy had never talked about it to him.

To distract himself from his worried thoughts the copper-curled teenager asked Arven:

"And what's yours, my dove?"

Like Akin, the raven-haired silent for a second before replying, feeling naked before the expectant assembly:

"I'm scared that, in the end, I'll be powerless, that I'll be stripped of my free-will." 

The girl was about to question the boy in his turn, but suddenly Eshé interrupted. She'd been quiet since the start of the conversation but now deemed it time to intervene, after all after Cale's turn it would be her's and it would seem suspicious if she refused to talk about her own fear; but she didn't want to reveal her sickness, to be treated different or pitied... If she did make friends along her travels, she wanted to fade away quietly, to disappear without a word, she didn't want them to grieve, to worry for her constantly.

"This conversation is getting gloomy, seriously guys, what's up with the angst?' she forced a grin. 'What about your greatest dreams?"

Arven scowled, interrupted, but eventually relented under the stares of the boys. Cale, again wanting to deter a future argument, deftly started:

"It was my turn, so I talk first!' there was a few seconds of silence, then he added: 'Well my greatest dreams... I want to be a private detective! Also of course, settle down, be a good neighbor and have two dogs... And I'd love to have an adorable little wife!"

The assembly – mostly the girls – arched their eyebrows before the... ordinary dream, and even more so when Cale bent down to kiss Arven's knuckle and amorously declaimed:

"I hope you will be part of that future, my adorable sugar-cube!" 

The teenager was about to politely decline when Eshé innocently asked:

"But isn't that for the horses?"

Laughs punctuated her remark and she confusedly looked around; Cale eventually stopped to smile and raise his hand for attention. 

"What about you Akin?" he asked, knowing very well what the boy would reply but playing along nonetheless.

"Well... I don't know," smiled the teenager.

His reply was welcomed by a deafening silence. Cale laughed to himself quietly, the girls certainly hadn't expected that. And indeed they hadn't; both had ambitious dreams, complicated situations and driving motivations, that pushed them every onward for a future they hoped to shape – even though Eshé's was short, she knew with a bittersweet certainty, she still had a few years –: of course they hadn't been prepare to come across someone with... absolutely no plans.

But Akin was exactly like that, he'd grown up seeing the successive and unexpected departures, shocked, of all his younger siblings' fathers; he didn't want to make plans, having seen, knowing how they could be so easily shattered by a single unpredicted events. So he thought it better to live from day to day, each after the next, that way he wouldn't be disappointed.

"I guess I'll first have to help the farm until all my little brothers and sisters have left, then maybe I'll get to travel a bit, and then... I'll come back to this farm, or create another one, like my mom did. I guess... I don't know."

Arven stayed stunned for a second; but she quickly recovered and grabbed the spotlight:

"Well _I _want to become a magic-duel star and marry Shady!"

The sound of Cale's destroyed pieces of heart falling to the ground filled the room with a heartbreaking whine. The young boy's face fell, Akin watching him, chuckling. Eshé tried to count the years separating the girl in front of them and her guardian: she was fourteen, he was... twenty-one she thought... She commented on that out loud and Arven, vexed, demanded: 

"Well can we know what _your _dream is Eshé? We haven't heard you much except to complain!"

The girl rolled her eyes but the damage was done, the small gathering was now staring at her, curious. She tried to think of a way to reply without revealing too much, her origins and her flight, her sickness, and eventually settled on:

"I want to travel the entirety of Hyrule and beat every magic-duelist there is!"

Earning herself awed gazes and comments from the boys. Arven snorted and said, "Yes, and after that?"

"I'll see,' shrugged the runaway. 'I don't like to plan too far ahead."

Suddenly the loud knocking of an angry fist on their door startled the four, they heard a muffled 'go to sleep unless you want a murder!' by what sounded suspiciously like Alix's voice. The group crawled back, shivering under the menace, to their respective beds, bathed in the moonlight. 

Exhausted, but happy, to have briefly glimpsed what the others were like, to have learned a bit more about the people sharing their room. Akin stayed awake a little bit longer than the others, watching Eshé's mane of curls become even more knotted with her tossing and turning, and smiling slightly.

She was cute, she seemed so brave and funny, he wondered why she didn't get along with the other beautiful girl.

He asked himself, if maybe, the four would find themselves in his room, in a few years, to talk together again...

/o\

Late in the cool evening, two slim silhouettes burst in Ordon's Healing Center – a sort of inn where travelers could stay for really cheap prices –, tired and disheveled. The Center's nurse raised her blue eyes from over her metallic counter, surprised, and glanced at them, asking with concern:

"Is this an emergency?"

Candid and Angela froze – gah, they'd forgotten a nurse surveyed the main hall twenty-four hours a day, every day, how stupid of them! They glanced at each-other, not knowing what to do, while the nurse set the heavy dictionary on magic medicine she was reading down. Before the two robber's panicked silence, she got up and swiftly crossed the room to see them:

"Is there a problem?"  
"N-no ma'am," stammered Candid.

"Well do you need a room for the night then?"  
"We don't have any money," confessed Angela, eyes downcast.

They'd been picked up by a driver after a whole morning of tiring walk; on the way to Ordon they'd even passed a carriage driving so fast you'd think it was fleeing a hoard of skultellas: the thing had almost overrun them! Their driver, a lad called Talo, had reluctantly shared bits of his meals with them, but now they were without any savior and their pockets were dreadfully empty. So they'd formulated a plan to break in the Healing Center to find food and shelter for the night... It was also very probable that their target, Arven, was going to pass here when she came to Ordon, because Healing Centers were very famous for their cheap prices all over Hyrule! So they thought it would be good to hide there, in wait for her...

But in their simple, crystal clear plan, they'd forgotten the nurse...!

"Ah..." the woman replied, a bit confused as to how to react, tugging at a strand of her frizzy chestnut hair. Her instincts screamed to let the two in, but... this wasn't how things worked.

She was about to voice her decision, heart already sinking when she imagined their distressed faces, when Candid burst out: "We could work for you you know!"

Leaving the nurse, surprised, to reply: "Oh, really?"  
"Yes if you could just let us stay a couple nights we'd help you out!" the azure-haired man added, hopeful clasping his hands together and batting his eyelids.

The nurse hesitated: on one hand she knew she was young and yet inexperienced, and it was true that performing first magical aid and more to every human that stumbled here – something she did for free: the government paid her for that as it was the very basis of a healthcare system – with only the help of her mavatar was very tiring, not to mention she had to perform rounds each night to check that nobody was breaking in, and she had to wake up very early to open the door to the Center's caterer, _and_ often sat vigil for her patients... On the other hand: she didn't know these two, was it safe to let them work here?

… Well, she thought, considering the princess with the half-torn dress and the ghostly priest, they didn't look too evil. She smiled, "Alright then. Let's start tonight: I'll wake you two up at one a.m so you stay alert for intruders the rest of the night, and tomorrow morning we'll have some serious work to do!"

Candid and Angela's moans, were long heard echoing throughout the night. 

/o\

**Well... Phew! My rhythm of one chapter per day dropped a bit, but I'm still pretty proud about the rate they're going up, hehe!**

**I'd love to hear you feedback one this, I'm not getting much yet... *whistles innocently***

**The next few chapters should be told in a lighter tone, I mean like Eshé said, guys, what's up with the angst? Ahh my characters never do what I want them to... *sad life, powerless author***

**Well hoped you enjoyed,**  
**Alice**


	5. The End?

It was just before dawn. The sun had not yet cast its plumy yellow tentacles over the horizon to scout the skies; instead, a sort of dusty, dark violet blanketed the heavens, sole witness of the joy, grief, deceptions and hopes, murders and births, of the people that lived and breathed beneath its ever changing cloak.

Arven was one of these people, and if others were rejoicing, partying until the sun rose or simply, laying idly in bed as their thoughts wandered; she was currently stuck in the opposite end of the emotional spectrum: stress had kept her awake most of the night when nightmares weren't blocking her road to sleep.

She had dreamed she was facing her first arena challenge in Ordon: but in the middle of the magic-duel she'd forgotten all her lessons and was completely lost as to how to react, what to do, and the champion had completely crushed her under the critical and unfriendly eyes of Shady, Akin, Cale, and even Eshé...! The feeling of humiliation had chased her to her awakening, and it slithered up her ribs in an insidious embrace.

She rolled away from the window to face the round wall, trying to find sleep again. But after ten minutes of counting sheep, she had to face reality and simply gave up. Quietly, she pulled the light summer sheets off her feverish body, and lightly crouched on the wooden floor. Akin was still sleeping in his alcove and Eshé was sprawled over her bed near the window, using her pillow as a teddy bear. She was pulling her tongue at some unknown person in her sleep.

Arven stealthily stole away, softly turning the doorknob and wincing as the hinges creaked.

She swiftly entered the deserted, twilit hallway, and twisted to the stairs, thinking she could heat herself some warm, honeyed milk in the kitchen. But just as she was turning around, she collided with a tall, soft mass, and crashed on her butt to the floor in a loud thumping noise and a shriek.

"Oh sorry!" exclaimed Cale, green eyes glinting with worry in the moonlight.

He bent to help her up, wide white shirt loosely hanging around his shoulders, and apologized again, cheeks red with embarrassment.

"I was coming back from the toilets, I didn't see you there..." he cursed in his mind, thinking that boy the situation really wasn't romantic.

Thankfully Arven just smiled, tipping her head to look him in the eye with her own wide, silvery irises, and said: "It's fine, I was going down to the kitchen to drink some milk anyway. Do you want to come with me?"

"Y-yes of course!" he cried out, his voice ringing in the corridor, then slapped himself over his mouth, cursing himself again for being _much _too loud.

Thankfully Eshé and Akin seemed to very heavy sleepers – or at least he knew that sleeping for Akin was the equivalent of hibernating for a bear – and they wouldn't wake up for another hour or so. The pair quietly padded down the stairs, turning left in the dinner room to enter the kitchen. The house, usually vibrating with the echos of laughter, shouts and unresolved quarrels, advices dispensed from one floor to another, was eerily silent.

To Arven's surprise it was Cale that prepared the milk, claiming he loved cooking and that it would be faster if he did the work, as he knew by heart the place of the Young's ingredients in the kitchen.

Soon they were sat on top of the wooden counter barring the room, staring at the massive tree branches that sprouted from the window, highlighted golden by the slowly rising sun, hands cupped around their warm glasses from which drifted the warm scent of milk, honey, and a slight peck of cinnamon. Arven blew a long breath on the sweet liquid, trying to cool it down, then asked:

"So, since how long do you know Akin?"

Cale shrugged, smiling, and replied: "I've know him for a real long time... It's 'thanks' to my sister, actually. You see she was always very talented with magic, it was her gift from the skies, like is said. When she turned ten, the minimum age required to magic-duel, she started participating in all the tournaments she could, all over the country, and my parents followed her around: she's very known you know, she's the youngest woman to have ever entered the army, just eighteen when she became a general. Her name's Oceane."

Arven frowned, furiously searching her memories, and found with surprise she could recall having read an article in the Castleton Times about an Oceane di Amal, who had become a brilliant master of Water based magic. She'd remembered the woman's strange name and politely impassible face on the picture.

"They had to find someone to tale care of me while they were away, since I was just six, and Akin's mother basically babysits all the children in Ordon when their parents need a hand, so it's her they contacted. I tried being friends with Jason first because he was my age, but when he pushed me off the tree I got the message.' At this Cale laughed, showing her a tiny scar at the base of his neck: 'That's what I got from Jason. Akin came to me to excuse himself on the behalf of his brother, and that's how we bonded really..."

There was more to the memory, of course, that a short summary can't properly depict and that words can't express. After Jason had pushed him off the tree, Alix, only ten at the time, had given him a proper scolding with her own new mavatar, and that had brought sad and helpless feelings back to the forefront of his mind. George had roughly carried him to the infirmary and summarily treated him, gruffly explaining he'd probably keep the scar.

He'd stayed huddled in one of the beds, set in a corner of the healing chamber, back arched against the cold stone wall, when he'd felt someone climb in behind him and turning around to be face to face with a round-cheeked Akin. The boy was a year younger than him, so he hadn't payed much attention to him at first: he was after all much older than the boy and no longer had time for the immaturity of five year olds.

"Are you ok?" the blond had naively smiled.  
"No,' he'd grouchily retorted, shifting to have his back turned to the intruder. He wanted to be left alone!  
"Because of Jason?"  
"No!"  
"Because your parents are gone?"

This question had hit home and he'd turned around to the impudent trespasser, incredulous.

"How do you know that?"  
He'd replied in a muffled way, because he'd stuck an index in his mouth: "Alix told-a me."

Then he'd continued: "You know, I don't have a daddy, my daddy left before I was born. And Alix don't have a daddy too, and also Pete and Beben, Janis and Sam', and Tinan and Jason and Vivi and Ariel and Anna too...' at that the blond, red-cheeked boy had smiled, showing off small dimples, and had determinedly tugged his finger out of his lips: 'It'll be ok you'll see!"

After that, Cale had felt all the guilt a six-year old could be conscious of, and he'd followed his blond friend around everywhere, never mind the gap of their one-year difference. Soon the two were inseparable, and Jason was long forgotten.

When he'd come home a month later, nobody had noticed his scar.

"... so that's my story Arven dear..." he completed, swinging his legs around the counter and jumping to the floor.

His interlocutor smiled sadly, and replied, eyes fixed to the floor as if she wasn't capable of meeting his green gaze, strands of crow-black hair falling around her shoulders: "It's funny, because I don't really have a father either: I'm an adopted child."  
"Ah," said Cale, scrambling for what was politically correct to reply in such circumstances.  
"Before you say anything let me warn you: I don't care,' interrupted Arven. 'Because there's no reason to wallow: I'm going to challenge all the magic arenas of the country until I beat them all, find true friends and maybe love, and I'll discover my origins!"

He blinked, stepping back.

"That's my real dream," she murmured, finally raising her pupils to meet his eyes.

They both smiled, having unloaded enough troubles of their bags for the night.

/o\

When Eshé woke up, Arven and Cale were gone.

However Akin was still blissfully sleeping in his alcove. She slowly stretched and sat up on her warm covers, blearily staring around the room and at the painted ceiling. Around the rim, around the vines, up the center, up the sky... Her awakening pupils ran along the stunningly detailed faces of the children, trying to detect familiar features in the confusing, colored assembly.

The window of the turret chamber had been left open last night, to leave the wind the liberty of circulating through the house; warm, early-morning sunlight came to gently heat her back, cascading through a breach in the leafy barrier of the oak to the mansion. Boo must be out in the fields doing whatsoever, she didn't really care... The girl blinked and drew her knees back to her chest, hugging them and blinking at a particularly dark-haired child in the painting.

It _was _Annabelle...

"All my brothers and sisters are up here," came a timid whisper.

Eshé jumped and let her legs slide back to the ground, turning her head to peer at her interlocutor. Akin was sleepily smiling, blond hair completely tussled and hazel eyes shy, still dressed in sloppy black pajamas. He blushed and looked up to the painting, pointing his finger at a redheaded, haughty silhouette:

"That's Alix, she's in the middle, because she's also at the center of our family..."  
"Did you draw them yourself?" murmured Eshé, standing up, as if she could reach for the picture and snatch all the people out...

"Yes,' Akin replied, scarlet with embarrassment. 'I love art. Art in general I mean, I love music, I know all the local instruments, and I draw, I've sculpted a couple of times and..."

He trailed away, stammering.

"It's very beautiful," the desert girl smiled, ignoring her current companion's stuttering problems.

Smiled, in such an innocent, dazzling, almost pure way, smiled in a manner that had already conquered so many hearts and tamed so many stubborn wills. Exposing her white teeth, grinning and showing off her round dimples, grinning without pretension, with all her self.

Akin tentatively smiled back, reassured, slowly taking her outstretched hand and rising to a stand. His stomach suddenly rumbled, and he reddened, mumbling something about breakfast. The runaway laughed a bit, and tugged her partner down to the dinner room, also feeling the first pangs of hunger of the day.

They padded down to an almost empty chamber: most of the family had already woken up and those who hadn't would probably be making the most of their rare lazy morning. Only remained Akin's uncle George, who was sipping a wide bowl of tea and devouring a round loaf of cereal-incrusted bread. He greeted them from the edge of the table, calling in his loud voice:

"Hey kids. Go get your breakfast and sit down, we need to do some talking."

His stern voice and impassible gaze set indignant shivers flying through Eshé but Akin seemed to not even react, so she suppressed her self-righteous reply and followed her companion to a wooden, cut-in-half kitchen. Maybe the man was always like that after all: it was true he seemed very gruff, unlike the quiet Jacob...

They entered the room just as Arven was finishing her reply, surprised to find their friends here.

"Heya!" exclaimed Eshé, forcefully clapping Arven on the back and sending her tumbling from the counter.

Cale rushed to catch her, chin banging against her forehead as she rose back up: they both crumpled to the floor under Eshé's loud laugh, their milks spilling all over their clothe and onto the floor. She took a step forward to help them but slipped on the white liquid herself and crashed down beside them, stunned.

"OOF!" Arven puffed as she rubbed her painful forehead.

"OOF!" Eshé gasped as her barely healed chest got impaled by Cale's flailing elbow – nobody noticed her discreet but painful cough.

They glared at each-other, but their 'don't you steal my lines!' was stopped by two hands slapping on their mouths: Cale didn't need an argument barely a few minutes after waking up, thank you very much! So eventually they were all up, Cale and Arven still a bit sore, the tall, green-eyed boy mopping the milk on the stone floor – and also glaring at Eshé in his spare moments.

Akin, imperturbable, lined what he and Cale took for breakfast up on the counter; then he turned to the girls, to ask them what they wanted.

"Tea and some biscuits please," replied Arven, eyes darting to where she knew the ingredients were kept, but leaving Akin to fetch them nonetheless.  
"What about you, Eshé?" smiled Akin, handing the food to Arven.  
"Well... I don't know," she laughed, embarrassed, plunging her hands in her baggy short's pockets.  
"How come you don't know?" they all asked, surprised.  
"Well they don't have that food over in the desert, back there I would eat dates, stuff with honey and pistachio, and mint tea, but I don't think you have that here!"

The three others looked at each-other, trying to think of some food she would know.

"Ah..." eventually said Cale, scratching his head. His blurry mind couldn't seem to come up with anything!  
"Maybe you could eat chocolate?" suggested Akin.  
"She can't eat chocolate in the morning: it's not healthy." firmly interjected Arven.

Not knowing that by this simple phrase would start, yet another argument. Indeed, just for the sake of being contrary, Eshé loudly declaimed:

"And what if I want chocolate?"  
"How can you want chocolate if you'll get fat?"  
"I won't get fat!"  
"Yes you will everybody does!"  
"Well I'm less fat than you!"

Arven snapped her mouth shut and reddened as Eshé mockingly stuck her tongue out, and grabbed the tablet of chocolate from Akin's frozen hand. The statement was actually true, Cale observed, surprised: the desert girl had acquired a thin waist and muscled legs by dint of practicing so many sports, while Arven, stuck inside studying all day, now possessed a bit of cellulite. … But no matter his Arven-dearest was the most beautiful girl of Hyrule!

"Well fine, get fat if you want." coldly finished Arven, thus ending the conversation.

They were leaving the kitchen, Cale casually asking, 'so, what's the plan for today?'; when George interrupted in his booming tone:

"Emmie is giving you the day off. However whatever you do and wherever you go, she and Shady have decided you _must be back by four o'clock._"  
"O-oh George I didn't see you there," stammered Cale, taken by surprise.

The man had finished his tea and was calmly sat in his chair, shoulders squared in a proud, rigid stance. He'd probably come down while he and Arven were talking, realized Cale: George's tea was always set on the kitchen table by Tinan after dinner, so he wouldn't have to waste time searching it in the kitchen – last time the imposing man had entered the room he'd sent crashing their entire set of Zora porcelain to the ground, a real Goron!

"Good morning Cale," acquiesced the man.

This left Eshé to conclude that yes: the man was always gruff. How charming.

There was a blank in the conversation, and George stood up and left, muttering 'no time for ungrateful teenagers, got work in the fields'. After making sure he was gone, Eshé settled down and started noisily chomping on her chocolate. Under Arven's irritated gaze.

They all followed her lead, staying grouped around one end, of the enormous and massive slate of wood that was the Young's table. A warm wind and the scent of sunny fields floated to them from the open door, rays of light trailing behind, lazily playing along the floor's red tiles, the edges of the chairs, and their teenager's faces, continuing their journey to the kitchen with a slow enthusiasm.

"So, what could we do with our day off?" wondered Cale, swallowing down his last mouthful of hot toast.

Immediately several suggestions came to answer his question:

"Eat chocolate."  
"Maybe we could play board games?"  
"Board games suck!"  
"Well we can't exactly eat chocolate all day can we? Instead of critiquing my suggestions find some real ideas!"  
"You can't stop me from saying what I thin-"  
"... I think... last time Alix had a day off, she took me to the forest."

Three pair of eyes and two still open and outraged mouths turned to Akin, who reddened and quickly stuffed another spoonful of cereal in his mouth to avoid any further explaining. Cale's eyes rounded as he enthusiastically replied:

"That's actually a good idea! We could show them our 'secret', right Akin?"

It was a good idea, and since it wasn't one of the two girls' suggestion, it would stop them from stupidly arguing. They finished their breakfast and carried it to the kitchen, packing a picknick; and greeting a sleepy Annabelle as she drifted down the stairs, two arguing Lilie and Lalie in tow. The blond twins kept tripping, each wanting to grab the single Kokiri doll they had taken with them, and almost fell down the stairs: eventually their quarrel was resolved when Lalie ripped the doll away from Lilie, the latter starting to cry: "it's not fair! She always gets 'vrything!"

Akin had to confiscate the toy and hide it atop the grandfather clock of the dining room, severely admonishing the girls in hard tone that stupefied the assembly:

"You always argue for the most stupid reasons! Stop your fussing Lilie: if you had really wanted a doll, you would have brought yours down!"  
"But she never shares!' sobbed Lilie, blond curls jolting along with her hiccups. 'It's not fair!"  
"Not true, you just always want what I want!" retorted her sister in a mocking voice, ocean-blue irises flashing. She placed her hands on her hips and jutting her chin out in a superior way.

Eshé and Arven were awfully reminded of their own arguments and furiously blushed as Akin turned to the second twin, sighing.

"No need to lay it on thick Lalie."

"You two are just a pair of immature sluts anyway!" Annabelle huffed indignantly.

The four teenager froze, dumbfounded, as Akin dangerously paled. Arven blinked, trying to find the similarity between the timid girl that had shared their carriage, and this rude kid. The crow-haired ten year-old let out a cry of surprise and pain when her older brother brusquely grabbed her arm, dragging her from the kitchen doorway to the dinner room table.

"Where did you learn that word?" he calmly asked, gently pushing her into a chair as he settled down beside her.

The girl's face immediately closed off as her blue-green gaze went over the room, taking in the scrutinizing eyes of Cale, Eshé, Arven, and the twins for once completely calm as they furiously tried to remember what word had set their older brother in such a state.

"What does it matter?" she grouchily replied, crossing her eyes.

Akin stayed perfectly calm, turning to the twins, he briefly ordered them, "go to the kitchen get your breakfast."

The two vehemently protested, not wanting to be excluded from the 'the big guys'' business. But they eventually yielded against their sibling's impassible, ever-patient gaze; another one of their quarrels broke out when Lilie tried entering the kitchen before Lalie and the latter imperiously commanded her sister to stay behind.

"Annabelle, where did you learn that word?" reiterated Akin, once more turning his attention to the little girl sat next to him.  
"It'd be easier if you told us," supplied Arven, but Cale warned her away with a firm glance: this was family business.

The total silence in the room eventually unnerved Annabelle. Akin only used her full name when he was serious and she could tell, with a child's sixth sense, that she would be in trouble if she did not relent; so she finally, ungraciously replied:

"I heard Jason say it."

Cale and Akin synchronously groaned, setting their heads in their hands. Of course, of course it was the acne-riddled fifteen year old that had said it: they'd seen it coming from a kilometer away. Akin sighted. Grasping Anna's hands in his rough, calloused ones, he stated:

"It's not because Jason says things you should listen to him. I never want to hear that word in your mouth again, it's a very bad, bad word, and you know what Alix'll do if she catches you."

Annabelle shuddered, her frail shoulders, not yet used to working in the fields, sharply jerking. Apparently the threat was enough for her to never repeat that word again.

They departed, Akin instructing her to keep a close eye on the twins.

The blond boy led them through the sunlit, drowsy fields of wheat that bordered the small river. The strands brushed their hips and tickled their chests, getting into their light summer clothe and freckling them a burnt golden. A dozen or so of figures – except a familiar, antisocial-looking silhouette – called out a distant greeting to which they replied with waves and shouts, smiling.

Then the group arrived at the fringe of the forest. Two huge trees seemed to form a natural arching to a tunnel of greenery, its ever-shifting walls floating along the wind and rustling with life. A soft breeze came to lift Eshé's mane from her eyes, and she thought for an instant, that it was the same that had come to greet her, that day before Lake Hylia...

But the girl stood stiff, thinking back to the spiders, almost seeing the Skultella, in front of her eyes,_ jumping on her with its big fat abdomen..._

__

"Are you coming Eshé?"

She jumped, startled, and Akin was smiling, innocently offering a hand out at her. The spiders dissolved around the pupils of his eyes, their spindly legs melting back into the natural, light browns and gray-greens of his irises.

"Of course!" she exclaimed loudly.

Because it came like an automatism. She pasted a bright smile on her face and took his hand, tugging him in the tunnel after her with surprising strength for such a slender young girl – climbing and athleticism proved useful after all! –, all the while thinking: of course. Of course she wouldn't be left behind, she wasn't like that, she never got left behind. When something was wrong her solution was moving forward, not backward. How little she knew, about how different she was from Arven on that point... Though they were so opposite, she really could have guessed.

The ground was soft and dusty under the soles of her feet as they caught up with Arven and Cale – she'd gone without any shoes. Sunlight spilled through every crack in the canopy, staging dramatic plays on their faces and on the earth. Everywhere a shaft of sunlight met with the soil, a flower had sprung: of pink, carmine, saffron or azure taints; a carnival of colors. There was a young and happy air about the trees, like their bark was smiling at the visitors. Because, that was what they were: tourists in a strange world, tourists depending on the good will of their hosts...

Luckily, here, everything seemed peaceful.

Peaceful until a horrible, distorted face suddenly exploded into existence in front of Eshé, lips snarling and eyes exorbitant. Meaning, that Boo had finally found her.

"HEYA!"

Eshé stumbled backward and held back a shriek, catching herself on a protruding branch. Immediately the three others crowded around her as she brought her hand up to cough, signaling them to take a few steps back.

"Just give me some air guys,' she swallowed difficulty, pasting a smile on her face. 'I'm okay, I'm on my way."

They looked at her, then at each-other, uncertainly, but no-one moved.

"Are you sure you're alright?' worriedly asked Arven. 'I've studied medicine if you want, I can-"  
"It's fine, it's fine!" exclaimed Eshé, pushing her away as the girl tried to see what she had wiped on her baggy short, what she had coughed up: blood.

Stung at the refusal, the crow-haired girl stiffened and turned away. "If you say so."

"I mean I just need to pee..."

There was a blank.

"Oh." said Cale, embarrassed.  
"Oh!" smiled Akin, relieved to see nothing was wrong.

Arven kept silent... Because she knew, that the desert girl was lying.

Eshé ducked behind a bush, breathing a sigh of relief, knowing she'd only just barely gotten away with it this time. She didn't want her friends to know she was sick, to pity her. Anyways, she had more important things on her mind right now:

"Boo you stupid poe! You almost got my cover blown back there!"  
"I was just saying hello." soberly explained the specter, snorting. If her host thought 'poe' was the worst insult she could say to a ghost, she was wrong.  
"I'm going to kick you out of my head one day." growled Eshé, amber eyes flashing.  
"You wouldn't dare," retorted the specter.  
"Would too."  
"Would not."  
"Would too!"  
"Would not!"

Their voices had risen too high, almost loud enough to be heard by the others, and they self-consciously lowered them, even the apparition for whom it didn't change anything anyway. Eshé began trailing figures in the dust with her uneven nails, scowling.

"Anyways. Hello."  
"Yeah. It was about time you woke up you know, I was getting bored. Next time I think I'll just wake you up."  
"So now you're transforming in an alarm clock?" cynically commented Eshé, raising her eyebrows.  
"Yes and if you're not careful it'll be theme 'Redead', so be polite."  
"A lesson of politeness, coming from you, who doesn't know how to say hello without scaring the poe shit outta everybody?"

Well the world 'poe' was definitely 'fashion' this morning, like those human girls said, mused the ghost. She brazenly retorted: 

"A lesson on politeness coming from you, who still hasn't understood the people _entering _have the priority?"

Eshé scowled, planting her flashing amber eyes in the spirit's intense brown irises, she stood up, brushed her sportsy, tomboyish clothe, and stated:

"Well if that's all you had to say I'll be off."

The three were waiting for her under a silver birch, quietly chatting. They rose their gazes to her, variously concerned, as she approached, setting her hands behind her hand.

"Done!' the teen loudly declaimed, grinning. 'I just had a few troubles-"

Three grimaces screaming 'no detail needed!' were thrown back at her, and she laughed.

For the two hours or so, they steadily climbed up the rolling hill, that constituted a natural barrier between the Young mansion and the rest of the immense forest. Eshé followed the three, half-chatting with Boo; half-listening to the complex conversation her companions had launched themselves into: debating various healing properties of this or that flower. It was a heated conversation: both Cale and Akin knew the woods and its plants on the tips of their fingers, but Arven's thorough studies on the matter and great culture allowed her to contest certain statements and supply her own load of complicated – and from Eshé's point of view dead boring – information.

The sun lazily climbed in the sky, as if he wanted to rest and maybe go back to sleep – probably a friend of Shady's.

Eventually the ground grew rockier and the trees sparser and they reached a menacing, dark, twisted, gargantuan, bramble. Eshé approached it circumspectly, eying it from several angles, while Cale and Akin looked on, a smile playing on their lips. Arven looked uncertainly at the thing, imagining herself stuck in the bush, thorns tearing at her body, her skirt completely in tatters revealing her naked legs to her friends...

"You know, we could just go around it," suggested Cale after some time.

The two girls blinked, feeling quite stupid.

So Cale and Akin promptly asked them to close their eyes, playfully setting their hands on the closed pupils to be sure, and led them, stumbling, around the bush. They counted to three, sharing a mischievous glance, and released their charges, taking a few quick steps back.

And... At first glance, Eshé couldn't honestly say she had been impressed.

Before them stretched a small grassy clearing, surrounded by dense fringe of trees; a dozen or so meters away, it was the drop. … A clearing, people, a clearing.

But then she'd noticed other details. The grass was tall and bending softly in the breeze, but sparse enough not to hinder her movements like the wheat. The trees really seemed to form a barrier between this haven and the forest, so much that she felt sheltered, nurtured, protected. Flowers, white and yellow and lavender, bloomed in bright flecks and spots all around the circular burst of plants. The sun cascaded in a warm, uninterrupted river from the sky. She walked forward, and found that the tall stalks hid a secret: a few meters away, taking its source in the entrails of the hill, was a clear, limpid spring.

Beside her, Arven sighed in wonder.

"It's the Ordon Spring,' happily explained Akin. 'Me and Cale come here since we're little, I think we're the only ones who ever really bother to climb..." 

Eshé suck in an awed breath, and tentatively stepped forward, dipping her bare feet in the surprisingly warm water... Water, so rare in her home country, was all around her, she could spoil it with her feet without really wasting anything, because people here would always get more... it was simply amazing! She plunged in the Spring, only coming out after she felt her lungs burning and her stomach heaving.

The three others had followed behind, Cale setting their packed picnic on a high, dark stone beside them; Akin and Arven watched her, half-worried and half-amused. Bright dapples played across their bodies and faces as she rose, and, completely wet... rushed to tackle the first person in her line of sight: Arven.

That was really not the thing to do.

Arven hit the ground in a dull thud, and felt a knee dig in her chest. She shrieked, spluttering and suddenly _wet_, and pushed her aggressor off, rightfully furious. 

"Well look who's blind now! Can't you be careful where you're going?" she spat.

Eshé sat up, angry at what she considered her game's rejection. She rolled her amber eyes under the fearful glances of the boys – who really didn't want another fight starting just a few seconds after their arrival –: 'Oh pfft! You're such a spoilsport, you could just relax once in a while!"

"That's not my definition of relaxing!"  
"Oh no, maybe you have another complicated word for it then!"  
"Complicated for _immature _and _stupid _girls like you, that's for sure! I'm all wet because of you!"  
"Well go swimming then!"

A sarcastic reply was already bubbling on Arven's lips when Akin found the only way possible to stop the argument before it became a full blown magical war:

"Yeah, let's have a swimming competition! I, uuuuh, I bet I can beat you Eshé!"

…. A thick silence settled on the group... becoming more dubious by the second. Arven and Cale's gazes flew back from Akin – longish blond hair, stoned expression, soft hazel eyes, five feet three inches and a slim build – to Eshé – a huge cloud of dark fork and knots, looking and feeling like an electric battery, loud and childish, strange amber eyes, five feet seven inches and a sporty, strong body. Cale, by far the tallest of the group, knew the importance of height in a physical match, Akin clearly wouldn't win his bet.. At the same time it didn't really matter to him, since the boy had probably invented that challenge to stop the new quarrel that was menacing to break-out. 

The stunned absence of sound would have lasted even more – maybe eve long enough to vex Akin, but seeing how slow he was on the uptake maybe that too was impossible – if Eshé hadn't admitted:

"I don't know how to swim."

Immediately Arven and Cale burst out laughing, the tallest of the group now imagining Eshé dramatically drowning as Akin paddled forward, oblivious – which unknown to him was what would probably have happened. However the desert runaway's tolerance of self-depreciation was limited, and seeing this her blond friend intervened:

"Arven, do you know how to swim?"  
"Yes, but it's not my favorite thing to do..." the girl replied uncertainly.  
"That's alright my dove!"

Suddenly forgetting the brunette in front of him, Cale turned to his one and only love and took her hand as he tugged her in the water, proclaiming one day he would declare propose her there and they would live happily ever after.

"What's wrong with him?" muttered Eshé.

Akin shrugged and smiled: "Cale is just... being Cale I think..."

They sat into the shallows of the pool, Eshé letting her hands drift along the soft petals of the flowers that grew beside it. Dusty blue, pale lavender, bright yellow, now pure white, and back again... She wondered where Boo was off to.

"What's your favorite flower?" asked Akin, raising his hazel eyes up to her.

The teenager closed her eyes, considering the issue. Beside the bush where she had talked with Boo earlier this morning had grown a pretty, red flower. She'd thought it was name a...

"... poppy!" she exclaimed.

Arven was tentatively dipping her feet in the pure water, its warmth soaking her skin and relaxing her ankles after the long hour of climbing they'd just endured, as Cale eventually ended his bombastic speech, hearts in his eyes. The raven-haired girl rose her blue irises to the sky, distantly hearing Akin go:

"It's a very colorful but fragile flower. Do you know the seeds of those next to where Blessed Butterflies live, can make people fall asleep in seconds?"  
"Oh really?' Eshé laughed. 'Hang on, I'll have forgotten that in two seconds..."

Some time later everyone was sat, fully dressed, in the shallows of the spring. Sun played on the water, sometimes blinding them, and dapples reflected themselves on their bodies and faces, giving them a strange, ethereal look. They chatted for a while; Akin asked Eshé if one day she would like him to teach her to swim, and she accepted with a 'super, thanks!' and a wide smile.

Soon however their stomachs began to rumble, and on an unspoken agreement gathered around the paper packet that held their picnic. Cale led the group to a high, rocky shelf to the left of the pool, that overlooked the beautiful view of the cliff. He carefully opened the charge had had carried for over an hour to the top of the hill. Inside rested a thin dry sausage, a fresh loaf of bread, butter, smoked beef and a large bowl of semolina topped with some sort of home-made tomato sauce and thyme.

Without a moment of hesitation the meal was carefully divided between the four and they wolfed the food down, finding it for the most part excellent. Arven wrinkled her nose at Eshé's manners, she was holding most of it with her hands as if she was too hungry to care, and talking at the same time...

"Well looks like we have a monster in our group," the raven-haired girl commented pointedly.

Eshé paused, swallowing some sausage, and threw back: "Well it depends, are you talking about a monster on the inside or one the outside? Cause there might just be two!"

Thankfully Cale intervened before Arven could reply, giving a 'high-alert number three, high alert number three!' look at Akin: 

"Tinan cooks really well, he's been getting better and better!"  
"Yes he mainly helps out with that now, with what Samantha being too depressed..." replied the boy, not getting why his friend was suddenly talking about his older brother.

Well, it was proved, Akin Young was really slow on the uptake.

"Why's she depressed?" asked Eshé, curious, attention diverted. 

"Her boyfriend enrolled into the army,' explained her blond friend, smiling candidly. 'So she won't see him for one year, and she thinks he doesn't care about her anymore, and keeps saying her life is over..."

Eshé rolled her eyes but Arven completely sympathized with the young woman's pain, she could just _feel _the desperation of seeing her love far away encroaching her with its bitter tentacles, and-

"She could get a new one," shrugged Eshé, breaking her fantasies.

"How dare you say that!' she exclaimed, indignant. 'You clearly understand nothing about _love! _Feelings can't be ordered around, it's her _heart _that's broken just there, and you're commenting so callously on the situation..."

Cale's green eyes were literally transformed into pulsing pink hearts: oh, Arven his love fully understood romanticism and the POWER OF FEELINGS, she was perfect for him ahh!

"MARRY ME ARVEN!"  
"NO!" snapped the girl, dashing all his hopes.

There was silence for a few seconds until the two burst out laughing, in front of Akin's and Eshé's blaze gazes. The runaway, very far from the pair's state of mind, puffed her cheek out and muttered something along the lines of 'pfft, love, gna gna gna love...'.

And she was about to say something in a louder voice... when Arven stood up and pushed her into the water, getting her back for earlier that morning! 

Except the drier, rocky shelf he group had settled one, overhung the deepest parts of the spring: Eshé wouldn't survive if someone didn't help her, this was a very dramatic situation...! She crashed into the pool with a disgraceful 'URGH!', sending droplets splattering on the group. After less than a second her gasping head and dark mane broke to the surface.

"SOMEONE HELP ME!" she shouted, desperate.

A thick silence settled on the group as they considered the gesticulating girl in the water, pathetically attempting to copy what others called 'swimming'.

"SOMEOOONE HELP ME!"

However Arven was split between regretting her traitorous act, and abandoning herself in a sadistic moment of pure bliss: she had finally shut her rival up! Cale was still entranced by his lovely and adorable 'fiancee' and thinking about what their kids would probably look like, and Akin was... slow on the uptake.

"GUYS?" yelled Eshé, regularly sinking then bubbling back up to the surface.

Silence.

"AKINNN!"

Brusquely the cry startled the boy out of his faraway reverie: he courageously plunged into the pool, however landing flat on his stomach... After a couple of seconds of wincing and gasping, the blond teenager paddled to Eshé and helped her over to the shallows, half-dragging her, half being kicked in her totally useless and chaotic attempts to help him. _Why do those kind of things only happen to meee... _whined Eshé in her mind, completely wet.

They scrambled onto the bank, Eshé shaking her mane of soaked hair like a wet dog. After a minute or so, Arven and Cale tumbled down to meet them; Arven laughing her head off and pointing a mocking finger at Eshé:

"Now I believe you, you really can't swim!"

Eshé thickly scowled, immediately retorting:

"What'd you do that for?!"  
"Oooh, don't be such a: 'spoilsport'," sniffed the raven-haired teen, quoting Eshé's remark from earlier in the morning.

Tension filled the air as Eshé jumped up in a single movement, but thankfully the fight was yet again averted by Akin, who naively commented, smiling:

"Well at least you know how to doggy-paddle."

Cale blew a relieved sigh and seriously acquiesced, adding: "With that you'll never sink."

"... Oh."

The group trudged back to their finished meal, Cale and Akin taking care of tucking the leftover crumbs into the paper and crumpling that so as not to pollute the pure clearing. They then joined Eshé and Arven, who were silently contemplating the magnificent view of the cliff, that stretched to the rim of the sky. The Young mansion, was on the opposite side of the hill, here the only thing that offered itself to their eyes were trees, big and small, slender and thick, deciduous, conifers, and some kinds they never had imagined even in their wildest dreams... Only interrupted in one place: far off to the horizon, a wide, light-colored sprawl stained the green of nature, smoke hazily drifting off tall chimneys.

"It's Ordon,' explained Cale. 'It's a day and a half of walking away if you go fast."

Arven shivered: the arena challenge, that had kept her up all night, awaited her there.

Then Akin pointed to a distant part of the forest to their right, that seemed, almost blue-tinged, under the sun:

"That's where the Faron woods start. They're even bigger than the Ordon ones..."  
"... Hundreds of people have gotten lost in there," completed Cale.

They then proceeded to answering the girls' questions about the forest – they'd only retained the world 'lost' and were asking for legends about the place. One topic leading to another, the conversation completely derived, and they ended up laying on the grass and simply looking at the sky, sometimes playing stupid games like rock, paper, scissors, sometimes just resting.

Getting to know each-other, their joys, their woes, continuing the discussion they had started in Akin's room last night as if there had been no interruption. In Arven's mind and especially in Eshé's, there was no doubt: they were becoming friends.

Soon however, the afternoon was over and the sun was setting over the ocean of trees, a fiery spectacle of gold, saffron and scarlet. Light hues challenged the darker tones of twilight with their plumy streaks, calling upon the heavens to extend the duration of their stay into the sky. The temperature dropped a bit, the dry breeze slowly running out of breath and leaving the cool air to softly rest upon their shoulders and the ground.

It was then that Arven jumped to a standing, suddenly looking panicked. Her wide blue eyes fell on Cale: 

"We were supposed to be back at four o'clock!"

The tall boy's own orbs widened and he quickly got to his feet, pulling Akin along with him. They pelted back to the pool and Eshé scurried after them, shouting:

"Stalfos spit!"

They all had completely forgotten Shady's and George's condition to their trip in the woods! The group took every shortcut Cale could think about, ripping through the undergrowth, but there was no doubt that they wouldn't be back in time: it was already, considering the sun, around six o'clock.

Arven was panicked. George had told her four o'clock, Shady knew she was to be back at four o'clock! Her guardian would be furious, he was responsible for her after all, if anything happened to her it was his fault! The raven-haired girl, felt scared, she'd never disobeyed to orders, never been a troublesome child, and now she found herself two hours late, she was going to get in so much trouble!

Cale was mostly worrying about Akin. His blond friend was always scared not to do well enough, not to be there for his brothers and sisters, he had always been careful not to be a burden for his mother who already had so many children and a bustling farm to handle. The teen would be worrying sick to have scared her and bothered his family...

But actually, Akin was very far from those thoughts. The inside of his head mostly resembled to this: "Oops, we're late. I wonder what we'll eat tonight... I KNoooww you want meee! YOuu know I want youu! I KNoww you want meee! Ohh, that's from Pitbull... I don't really like it but I bet it's Cale's favorite song! If I hit that tree it'll hurt right? Ooh look a bird. I'm on top of the world, eh! But I'mmm not... OhHh that was Imagiiine Dragons, - DRAGONS BARRRH – It's getting better... Jujust leave me aloooone." 

In short Eshé was the only sensible, unworried, normal person here. Or not.

They ended up almost an hour later, breathless and winded, in front of the house. The last glimmers of sunlight peeked through the leafy barrier of the tree, reflecting their violent light on some closed windows; it almost seemed like bloody eyes were glaring at them from inside the house. The fields were quiet, everyone had gone in to prepare for dinner. Somewhere two children were arguing.

The group ventured inside, praying to find the dinner room empty... But Shady was stiffly sat on top of the table. 

As soon as they entered his ruddy, hard gaze honed in on Arven, who stopped right on her tracks and shivered. The other three froze alongside her, unsure of what to do.

"I'm very disappointed in you all, especially in you, Arven." curtly started the Sheikah.

The raven-haired girl and Cale opened their mouth to protest, one to defend herself and the other to protect his friend, but the adult didn't leave them the time to reply:

"I've decided staying here isn't having a good influence on you. We're leaving tomorrow with Eshé."

"W-what?" stuttered Arven, feeling disappointment sinking her heart as surely as an iron anchor; quickly echoed by an indignant: "Excuse me?" from Eshé

Shady quickly turned to the desert girl, cheeks flushed red with anger, and snapped: "I would keep a low profile if I were you. We have some talking to do."

The tanned teenager started, absolutely confused as to what the adult could have to say to her, and brusquely closed her mouth. The Sheikah waved Arven and the boys off:

"Go pack you bags, and you two, please get out of the room, I need to speak with Eshé."

It wasn't that Shady seemed especially furious. But his tone was so calm, and sickly sweet, it sent chills creeping down their spine, and Arven, completely lost at seeing her childhood crush this way, trudged upstairs with her friends, mood completely sunk. They exchanged looks, fretting about Eshé, and entered Akin's room.

Silently the boys watched Arven pack her bags. Absolutely no sound came from downstairs, no shouts, no cries, it was utterly quiet; this was what was really worrying. First ten minutes passed. Arven had finished packing her things and was curled up on her bed, hugging the pillow, seemingly lost in thought. Cale had resorted to reading a comic book and Akin was trying to draw, but not succeeding to sketch anything satisfying because there was a lot on his mind. 

Twenty minutes ticked and still Eshé didn't come upstairs. Arven was hidden underneath the covers, only a few streak of crow-colored hair peeking out. Cale couldn't concentrated enough to read and Akin had given up drawing so they just chatted quietly, each equally disappointed the girls were leaving... The bronze-curled boy regularly glanced at Arven to make sure she was alright, but something told him not to disturb her and he hung back, hesitant.

Who knew why she was hiding, after all?

/o\

"What does this mean?"

The young adult flashed a newspaper in front of Eshé's taken-aback expression. She trembled a bit when she read the headline: "**GERUDO PRINCESS ON THE RUN**", and saw an article was dedicated to her on the front page, but decided to play along nonetheless.

"Well, that you read the journal," she stated carefully, face neutral.

Shady brusquely became scarlet. He clenched his jaw dangerously, and his teeth made a soft screeching noise.  
_Calm down, calm down_, he repeated to himself, _after all parents usually try to hide illness to their children, maybe she doesn't know..._ Maybe that would make him forget he had almost risked his career and honor, maybe even his life, for hiding a princess with an incurable sickness. Ooh, that rhymed.

Brusquely, much to Eshé's surprise, Shady changed attitude, and bent down to her level, face becoming soft. He gently laid a hand on her shoulders and inquired:

"Can you tell me why you ran away from your home?"

Immediately the desert girl's face shut off. She brusquely took a step back across the red tiles of the floor, away from the adult's hand, as if he would snatch her away if she didn't back up.

"Why does that interest you? It's not your business!" she spat. 

Shady took it upon himself not to react to this insolent reply, and kept his face kind.

"I'm worried, that's all. Maybe we can solve this with your father and you can keep traveling, but legally this time..."

But of course he didn't believe a single syllable he uttered, he just wanted to send her in the first carriage home.

"Liar," she hissed.

Well he was maybe set on shipping her away, but _she _was determined to convince him otherwise. After all, she had the most useful weapon against a human being on her side: pity.

"Have you ever... been locked in, Shady?" she started softly, raising her powerful amber eyes to his dusty irises.

"No, I never had that privilege..." replied the Sheikah, weary.

"Well... I have. In a golden cage, like is said. At first I didn't really notice, it didn't bother me, I could go outside, meet other girls and do sports, I could run and rarely saw doctors at all... But little by little the bars tightened around me, and soon I couldn't even go out of my room without being constantly watched, I didn't even see other children my age anymore."

The adult slowly stood back up, almost, hypnotized by the feisty, yet so pleading irises that held his gaze like two fiery jewels, listening to the voice, that planted a sweet but painful decor around him like... the bars, of her golden cage.

"All the people that I cared about slowly left. Of course I told myself I could survive, I had to keep going for the people that had remained, and my sake too. And I could get everything I desired... however nothing could fight against the lock of my prison! It kept getting smaller and smaller, and I forgot what the outside was like. I forgot, what freedom was like."

Shady couldn't fight against the burning gaze anymore. He lowered his eyes, wincing and touched by the tale despite himself. Even him who was risking so much, and had taken his decision without so much as blinking when he'd read the newspaper, was starting to think of another way to proceed. 

"Do you at least know... why this cage is tightening?" he asked gently.  
"Well of course I do." firmly replied Eshé.

He shuddered.

"So you know that you are critically ill?"  
"I may be a child but I'm not stupid,' tartly retorted the girl. 'Of course I know, of course I saw how Tasha and my dad stopped smiling, of course I heard the doctors coming to visit day and night, and it was simple enough to eavesdrop. Since my sixth birthday I've known."  
"But... but then why did you run away?! Don't you know what the specialists say about your condition?"

The fear, the shock, the incomprehension, collided in his vibrant tone. Eshé humorlessly laughed when she heard the word that had crossed her ears, so many times: 'specialist'. Well all those specialists weren't worth more than the average doctor in her case, they were just scavengers that had taken her father's money without being able to do anything durable.

"The most optimist say I'll last until twenty years old, the most pessimist until sixteen... And so what?" 

She had said this sentence, this very sentence that condemned her to a life without any outcome, with such indifference, that the Sheikah couldn't retain a dreadful shiver.

"And... and so what?" he repeated, disbelieving.  
"Well I'm going to die, that's all."  
"But-"  
"Shady, understand me. I know that I'm going to die, since my earliest age I've known, and I also know there's absolutely nothing anyone can do. One day I'm going to have an attack worse than the others, close my eyes... and die. It's... actually, ironically simple. It'll just be a bad moment to go through."

"But how can you say that!' burst out the young adult. 'You're a child, you still have time, science and magic progress more and more everyday! A way to save you might come soon enough, but for that you have to go home and obey to the doctors to buy time, time, and more time!"

He who had cared for Arven, a child, since so many years, couldn't bear to see another young bud wither away before she had the chance to bloom. He rose his eyes to meet Eshé's gaze again, but the teenager, had simply closed her eyes, waiting for the speech she knew by heart, to be over, so she could speak. Once Shady's breath had run out she opened her soulful irises and plunged them, plunged her presence, in his retina, and continued; so superior, so indifferent...:

"Sir,' and he startled at that, because she was putting a distance between him and herself, clinically, so coldly. He who loved barriers, for once, found himself on the wrong side of them. 'I am suffering from a unique illness, no case of it has been seen before. My father can engage all the 'specialists' he wants, don't you think they would save thousands of other lives if they focused on a more common sickness?"

Shady took a step back, in the face of the kid's implacable, logical, arguments. Yes, it was true, why should she be saved, and others not? Because her family was richer, should society be organized in that hierarchy; was she any more important than others?

With this state of mind, no doctor would seriously dedicate his entire time to finding her cure. And Eshé, of the family of the Well where Sand Gathers, perfectly knew that.

"But... don't you want to live any longer?" he threw out, in a last, desperate attempt to change her mind.

It was ironical, that he was now the one begging the child, when it should have been the other way around.

The girl sighted softly, this time lowering her own eyes, as if, she was contemplating what her world would become if she made that choice. As if that alternative, that 'and if', was just at her feet, playing out, showing her every outcome.

"If I go home... I may live longer, but I'll be in that cage. And I'll finish my life in a hospital room, all alone, with no freedom... Maybe I'll even have truly, forgotten freedom."

She raised her pupils again to him, challenging him to deny that that was what she would become, if he sent her home, if he discarded all her dreams and hopes. Her round face was set, her nose creased into a rough, provocative bar.

"I'd rather travel and taste real happiness, even if the pleasure is shorter!"

She advanced on him and he let her; she was almost glued to him when she raised her head to meet his gaze again, amber irises framed by her wild mane of knots. So short compared to him, so young.

"However... I'd understand if you denounced me. After all your work, your life is at stake. But if you do that I'll leave before they find me, I won't go back there."

And without another word she brushed past him, to Akin's room where her friends would be waiting for her. It would be so easy, to run away, she would tell them she had to go pee behind a bush but would simply leave instead of coming back. She'd be gone before they knew it, like she'd done back home in the desert...

Shady stayed frozen, in the wide, twilit room. The tiles of the floor stayed as still, as cold and implacable, as the picture Eshé had painted for him. He slowly rose the newspaper he had been clasping, to point of whitening his knuckles, to his gaze.

_"The princess Eshénadoru, according to the tradition of the Gerudo people, would not have ascended to power, so her localization isn't indispensable to the survival of the monarchy. However, her father has spared no expense in order to find her, the quickest way possible.  
Indeed, the princess suffers from an incurable illness since her youngest age. Resting at the intensive care center of the Gerudo capital would be the only way for her to live to see her twentieth birthday. Her clandestine adventure could prove to be fatal for her, therefor we ask every civilian to actively participate in the researches."_

Everything that was said in the article, was true. However the analysis of the kiddie, also.  
On one hand, a short life was waiting for her at a hospital, mournful and monotonous... On the other, an even briefer existence, but full of colors, of joy, of freedom.  
The jaw of the young adult tightened to the point of showing his tendons. In a furious gesture he crumpled the paper and stuffed it in his pocket, then sprinted up the stairs in an uncharacteristic burst of speed, catching up to a defeated, trudging Eshé in a few seconds. He rested a hand on the teenager's shoulder and she stiffened, stopping dead, hand on the knob of Akin's room.

"I... won't denounce you," he managed to get out, firmly tearing at the last tentacles of his conscience.

And he wouldn't tell her friends about her condition, either.

Suddenly it seemed as if the runaway's knees gave out underneath her, she almost fell down the stairs with a panicked cry, but he caught her at the last moment – already regretting his decision: look at the catastrophic start! The teenager wheeled around, eyes brimming with gratitude and all-out delight, and jumped in his arms.

"Thank you,_ thank you_ Shady!"

"However I _will _follow your every steps, young girl! You have better take care of yourself!"

"Yes, yes I swear!"

"You'll have to listen to my every word!" 

"Of course Shady! Thanks you soo much, thank you, thank you!"

He let go of her, ushering girl to join her friends. And fondly watched her, rush in the room, this time staying on her legs. So weak, yet at the same time filled with vigor... Maybe after all, he didn't regret his decision.

/o\

Eshé opened the door brusquely, with a wide smile, almost giddy.

"HEYA!"

The three others looked at her for a few seconds, unnerved. Their stressful waiting, the tension and the heavy silence... They hadn't expected it, to be broken that way, in a manner so opposite to the slow, defeated ambiance that had suffocated them for over twenty minutes, stuffing their mouths with numb cotton and their minds with lead. Arven started under the covers, thinking, _if I had been the one to get scolded, I wonder how I'd have reacted?_

  
"... hey...?" ventured Akin, standing up uncertainly.  
"You guys didn't have to wait to long right? Was it fun?"

Was what, fun..?

"Are you alright, Eshé?" Cale asked slowly, rising to his knees and staring quizzically and the tanned desert girl. There was nothing to be happy about, the girls were departing tomorrow without them, they'd be parted...

It was that thought, and jealousy as to the fact Eshé had gotten some time alone with her beloved Shady, that motivated Arven to throw the covers off her, uncovering her beautiful, flushed face – it had been hot under there after all.

"What were you two talking about?" she asked, envy tinging her tone.

Cale frowned sadly, comforting himself with an image of himself beating the Sheikah in a magic-duel and carrying Arven off into sunset, her cooing adoringly: "you're much, much better than any guardian on Earth my wonders of wonders!"

Back in reality, Eshé brushed the crow-haired teen off, lying: "Oh, he was just asking me to help grade you on that magic-duel we did."

The color drained off Arven's cheeks.

"And what did you say?"  
"That you were clearly not gifted in a fight, it was just a pure stroke of luck that you even managed to end in a tie with me-"  
"You didn't say that!" came the incredulous, hopeful and fragile interjection.

Arven couldn't believe it, she didn't know the desert girl well, but it didn't seem her type to do this, right? … Right...? Otherwise Shady would never even consider her, she'd was lower than a Moldorm in his esteeem...

Her hopes however, were irredeemably dashed as Eshé laconically retorted: "well of course I did."

Arven furiously blushed, trying to think of a good comeback. Finding nothing to say she snapped the worse thing that came to her mind.

"And while you were talking with him I bet you didn't think to ask him if we could stay with the boys longer."  
"He refused, he said you were already late for Ordon's arena challenge because of the Skultellas and that it was now or never," countered Eshé.

Akin smiled, having seen right through his friend's game since a few minutes already. She was lying since the start, but he couldn't bring himself to reveal to the others. Instead he curled up on the bed, watching the two girls like he would watch a magic-duel between Alix and Jason, intrigued.

Arven's eyes flicked to Cale, both remembering their discussion that morning. She was going to challenge all the arenas, find her origins out, true love, and make new friends... But she'd found a friend in Cale, a friend in Akin also, and somebody she could measure herself against with Eshé.

And she didn't want to leave them!

Cale sighed, looking out the window to the twilit fields.

"So... I guess, this is the end, huh?"

/o\

**PHEW this chapter was LONG! 28 pages on my document without any double-spaces, but I couldn't really cut...**

Right then, if you have time, please review, I've thrown a lot of myself into this and it would be greatly appreciated, if you took the time to type a few words. Please. Seriously, I give cookies.

Until next time!  
Alice 


	6. Or a New Beginning?

**Hi guys. Sorry for the super-long wait, but this story has endured immense modifications. I couldn't seem to work out a correct plot without these changes, so please excuse me. If you have started this story after the 1rst of March, this will not impact you in any way.**

To my few old readers, please, bear with me. ^^

There is an important scene at the start of chapter 1 you must read.

Chapter 2 has barely been modified, no need to reread it.

In chapter 3, Eshé and Arven's dispute ends in a totally different and interesting way (to the story), please read it. Also, Candid and Angela don't manage to get on the cart. They thus can't follow the heroes. Please reread a new dialogue just before the spider attack, and also the attack itself.

Chapter 4... Uh... Just one scene at the very end with Candid and Angela.

Chapter 5, has been mostly modified, there's a scene explaining Cale at the very start, with an important info on Arven... A fun scene, I think, with Annabelle, Lalie and Lilie. And their excursion in the forest has been mostly change, so please reread the chapter!

Chapter 6 is now 42 pages and has been almost entirely rewritten. If you want to keep up with the plot, you should read it, there's some important info on magic-dueling, the magic in this world, and a very interesting scene at the end.  


/o\

A clear dawn like the one of the previous morning rose on Ordon. The pale rays of the sun, tentatively sketched the first shadows of the day, slowly washing the painted wooden roofs in wan watercolors, contouring the grey cobbles of the streets with their slight glimmer. Cupping the yet sleeping town were the awakening woods, every leaf haloed in slight golden, the green membranes not yet whispering under the warm breath of the wind. Behind the grand, sturdy trunks of the forest sentinels, faded the faeries, dispersing their energy to become One with the world that surrounded them. Their secret existence was slowly murmured from tree to tree in whispers that the villagers would never hear, the creaking of the branches of the slight shifting of a root. Legends stopped were Humanity begun.

The discreet dawn that meekly painted the vast Southern Lands with the vibrant colors of the day, also rose on the Young mansion. More specifically, it swiftly snaked through the canopy of the great guardian oak, still frozen in its eternal embrace, to lazily filter through Akin's window.

Both girls where still fast asleep; they wouldn't get up for an hour or so. After that, it would be the end, time to go...

However, if his companions were peacefully unconscious, it was not so for Cale. The soft covers and dreamy whispers of the night, had tried to claim him for hours, but he remained decidedly awake, for a single simple reason: he was to be parted from his dear Arven at dawn. How could destiny, O Destiny, be so cruel on him? His most magnificent of loves would leave him today and never return, how would he ever protect her from so far away?

The dark-curled boy had tried to work up a solution, an excuse for him and Akin to depart with the girls all night... But to no avail... Unless...

Cale suddenly straightened to a sitting, eyes illuminated in golden stars as an idea finally struck him with the full force of a charging horse.

_BONK!_

The alcove roof met his head in a brutal collision and he ended up splayed on the bed again, stars not in his eyes but dancing around his vision, rubbing his head painfully. What a great way to wake up...

Thankfully, even if this abrupt inspiration had cost him his frontal lobe, it had also awoken the heavy-sleeping Akin. Well then again a leg of Cale's had crashed on him... On the wrong spot... So it was natural he opened his eyes after that, the tallest of the two supposed.

After a minute or so of muted pain, Cale finally got Akin out of the room and into the twilit wooden corridor outside, without so much as waking the girls – well the sleepy blond had stepped on a streak of Arven's waist long crow-colored hair but that didn't count –.

Pale rays of sunshine languidly filtered through the arching windows of the hallway, trickling down the planks of the opposite walls and playing along the bumps and creases of the dark wood, highlighting the family pictures in light in soft lemon.

Akin was staring up at his friend with stoned hazel eyes, mouth half-open and eyelids droopy. The teenager was still in his black horse-pajamas, clutching a big pink teddy bear that Cale had won for him at a carnival when they were little, called Mr. Love Doctor. Any other person, would have demanded a reason, a justification as to the early awakening, but Akin simply nonchalantly stood in front of his friend, tipping his head and hooking his gaze in his friend's irises by the force of sheer will. In there was an explanation, it would come soon enough... Or not come, he didn't really care actually...

Cale on the contrary was waiting for his childhood companion to beg him for a justification, he was, ready to share his genial idea with a hint of generous condescension and a grandiloquent speech. Yes, he was ready! But carried away in his dreams of grandeur, he had clearly forgotten how the blond boy functioned. So after a few minutes of dramatic waiting in the empty corridor, the silence only broken by Eshé's powerful snores, he resigned himself to explain his awesome plan.

So Akin found himself fully informed in a matter of seconds, and before he could protest he was carried down to the dinner room where his mother was bound to be taking her breakfast with Jacob and George.

Indeed, there they were. Emmie, dressed a thick purple bathrobe, was tucking a streak of her wet blond hair behind her ear. Her wide hazel eyes were focused on her hot coffee and her round, freckled face was slightly flustered as she listened to an explanation of Jacob's. George had apparently caught Vivian and Ariel red-handed yesterday, in the middle of the process of introducing a mouse in Tinan's room.

"I can't believe they would do that, Jacob,' she protested, fully knowing that in fact her only male twins were very capable of it. 'They all know Tinan is deathly scared of critters!"

That was quite ridiculous, for someone who lived in a farm, everyone also knew. But that had only earned Tinan an another nickname: 'mousinator'.

"You know they would have done it Emmie, don't deny it..." mumbled back her brother, taking a sip of his own bowl of coffee, which the siblings were fans off.

Hazels eyes met hazel eyes for an instant while George sat as a silent observer, and eventually the jovial woman seemed to give up. She was tired, after all. She'd just taken her shower, it was before six in the morning and she still had to perform her daily trip around the house to awaken everyone, even Jason who slept in a broom closet on the last floor and who usually refused to budge until Alice came up to shout at him. One time he had even resisted to that, and Jacob had had to come up with a crowbar to open the door of the cupboard... Yes, she really wasn't it the mood to defend two daredevils who she knew where perfectly guilty of what they were accused of.

The round blond woman raised both of her palms in a sign of peace and was about to reply, when George noticed the two boys standing on the last step of the stairs.

"Well, you two are up early," he commented dryly, wondering if he should punish them further for their late return the previous night. After all they had associated themselves with a very insolent girl.

Cale, not noticing the warning in the bearded man's pupils, opened his mouth to loudly greet the adults, a slight playing on his lips:

"Hello, I need to go to Kakariko!"

Silence fell as the adults processed his words. Eventually, Jacob said:

"That's where Shady told me he was going..."  
"Why?" asked Emmie at the same time, eyebrows knitting.

Luckily Cale had prepared just the perfect reply for the foreboding question.

"I think my parents will be there for the Summer Solstice, there should be festivities and a magic-duel tournament..."

A soft silence returned once again to the room. George stirred his tea, gaze flicking from Cale to Akin. The tall boy wanted to follow the girls, that much was clear. But the childhood friends had never been seen parted for more than a few hours since the day of their meeting... if Cale left, Akin would go with him, one way or another. Was really ready for that?

The blond boy in question, was standing rigid, stock-still next to his lifelong support. His hazel eyes fixed the corner of the immense wooden table in the room, wide. The words that were being uttered at this instant entered his ears but didn't seem to leave a mark on his brain, he didn't quite understand them; in truth he hadn't quite understood anything since Cale had whispered his plan. Their purpose, their goal, was to leave? Him leaving his family, his home, his everyday? But it was the only place, where change wouldn't reach him, where he felt secure...

Three adults' gazes, the gazes of those who had followed George's logic, honed on him, but no emotion seemed to filter through his apathetic hazel irises. Cale carried on, oblivious to what was happening in the grownups' minds, as well as in his best friend's:

"I thought Akin could accompany me, we'd be back just after that in barely a month, more than in time for school; I don't think I can do this alone..."

It was certainly true that he wouldn't have been able to do this alone. If he was doing it in the first place.

Jacob and George slowly fixed Cale, with the shrewdness of those who know they have all their time to decide; then, they turned to Emmie. It was on her, that the decision would rest. The woman had closed her eyes, her jovial face was frozen in a state of pure calm that let nothing filter of her emotions. But inside, it was a wave of disappointment, resignation that was submerging her heart and threatening to swallow her mind. From the moment she had delivered Alix, her true firstborn, she had known, that one day her children would leave her, to travel, to see the world and make a life of their own...

But why was it Akin, her stout little Akin, who had to leave first...? Of course, it wasn't done yet. Of course, she could say no if she wanted to, she could stop the young boy from traveling roads that could prove dangerous or deadly, with only a single responsible adult, two nutcases whose brains seemed to have stopped at eight years old, and three other children who wouldn't be of much help, in life and death situations. But was it fair, to part the boys from the girls, if they desired to follow them?

She herself, had been parted from too many husbands, against her will. She knew the pain that followed the rupture and even if nothing romantic yet bound her two proteges with the other pair, it wasn't fair to nip a friendship in the bud.

That was, a first reason, as to why her decision was already taken.

Another resided in the fact that... Emmie was a woman of choice. And she assumed them, that, her younger brother Jacob had understood through bitter experience. Her parents had disapproved her choice of life, living it to the fullest, seeing boys, going out and smoking more than tobacco for a time: they had been traditionalists. And his ears, still echoed with their yells and shouts, with doors slammed and the lock to her sister's room clicked shut, them not knowing she used the ladder he brought to her window every evening to escape at night. He still remembered endless family dinners plumbed with a silence that screamed confusion, helplessness and anger, he could see his father slapping Emmie right in front of his eyes. He himself had found his sister so egoistical, she was, destroying his peaceful family, without remorse; she never listened to the opinions of others and hadn't cared much at the time, if her mother had a heart-attack when she wasn't home by morning, if her father was dishonored and if her little brother... Had stopped talking to her, bitterly, lost and frustrated; because his words were wasted breath. It had taken a long time, for them to mend their relationship.

But still today Jacob knew it was useless to protest, to try to change his sister's mind. The decision was already taken.

Emmie slowly opened her eyes and cast her hazel irises on her son.

"Do you want to accompany Cale, Akin?" she asked softly.

The boy was frozen. No, no, no, no, he couldn't, he couldn't abandon his family...! Without them, without his house and his people and everything he was used to, he would be lost, he wouldn't know what to do, what to... What about how Lilie was jealous of Lalie because she thought Lalie's name sounded prettier, more complete; what about Annabelle, who would watch over her if he was gone? Would she sleep completely alone in his room, in her small little alcove, with nobody to read her bedtime stories and tuck her into bed? Who would help Samantha out with picking the veggies, who would gather herbs for George? What about protecting Tinan from Vivian and Ariel, or enduring Alix's scolding when he took the blame for them all under his mother's discerning gaze? What about the fact that Alix, had told him-

"Sshhh.' his mother was around him, wrapping his slight figure in her wide embrace, cradling him as if he was a baby. 'You don't have to decide now..."

But he did. The girls left in at most, an hour and a half. And he couldn't disappoint Cale, could he? He couldn't, abandon his best-friend... Cale was fixing him with wide green eyes, but knowing ones. He never had quite, understood Akin despite all their time together, he didn't grasp the importance of this scene, what was going on beneath Akin's frighteningly impassible face. His broken voice didn't fit it with the neutral smile and attentive gaze he served to all. The boy almost looked like, a comedian who had been attributed the wrong voicing by his director. Yes, it looked like a ridiculous translation to a scene that didn't fit the text...

"I'll g-g, o," Akin hiccuped. His eyes were dry.

His mother tightened the embrace around him and they stayed silent a while.

No-one noticed George's disapproving frown as he angrily pushed his chair back to brusquely stand, and carry his dirty dishes to the kitchen. No-one, except Jacob, who slowly followed him with a pensive look to his eyes... His nephew was leaving.

But the nephew in question, didn't know if that was good or not...

/o\

It was previously mentioned, that Shady usually had some... trouble to awake on mornings. The young Sheikah had been careful to fall asleep at half past eight the previous evening, to _at least _have nine hours of sleep that night. He had planned waking up with the sun and the sounds of the house rising, and if needed with a shout – or more – from Arven; but _certainly _not by a Water-attack!

He jumped up, reaching for the dagger he always kept under his pillow and spluttered the icy liquid out of his lungs, trembling and gasping, swinging his weapon wildly to meet-

A steel armor with a loud bang. The Sheikah blinked, slowly coming to his senses, as he realized that:

Number one, one of Emmie's redhead seniors, Eben, was leaning on a bookshelf at the opposite of the room. What was he doing there?

Number two, it was the nineteen year old's mavatar that had dumped water on him, and the exact replica of his aggressor was smiling very acidly. Wait, maybe Eben was here because he was borrowing his room...

Number three, if he didn't sheath his dagger, soon, there was going to be some trouble. Which he promptly did, blearily frowning and declaring coldly:

"You certainly seem to have an original way of awakening others."

The mavatar disappeared as Eben shrugged. "It's what my sister Alix does to our little brother Jason, and it seems to work."

"Oh that, it perfectly does, I can confirm it."

Shady tugged the now wet and icy covers of him, them sticking to his skin and making him shiver. The wooden floor felt rough against his naked feet and he straightened, moving to his travel bag, which was set on the only possible free surface of the room: the man's study.

And indeed, Eben seemed to study a lot. It had gave him the creeps when he'd moved in a few nights ago, that someone's room could be that cold, impersonal, and entirely dedicated to work. Especially since Eben was only a young adult, he should have conserved lively memories of his teenage-hood, but... apparently, not.

Giant bookshelves covered the walls, the somber wood weighed down by countless, big, and boring looking books. He'd even noticed that a shelf had been moved in front of the window, like the boy didn't care for light, for any distraction: though the view of the fields was beautiful and comforting it was completely blocked by, again, studying.

The only natural light came from the sun-rays that streamed around the old, leathery cover of the manuscripts, playing on the rough grain and losing themselves in the twilit ambiance of the chamber. The only trace that someone lived here: a beautiful, sculpted, metallic wind-chime hung at the very center of the room with the arrogance of a chandelier... with no wind to blowing into it, it drooped, deserted of life, vanquished by a decadent immobility.

"Seeing as you are leaving today, I am going to immediately reclaim my room," enunciated Eben, ocean-blue irises following Shady's every move about his domain.

"Did you have to do it so early?" the Sheikah grumpily asked, refraining himself from adding, _and did you have to be such an ass about it?_

"I am a morning person," calmly resumed the redhead.

In truth, he'd just gotten tired of sharing a room with his overenthusiastic twin Peter, and seeing as he couldn't kick him out of his own room, he'd decided to reconquer his occupied domain. And, well, he actually _was_ a morning person, so he'd taken breakfast down in the kitchen and had chat about punishing Ariel and Vivian for terrifying Tinan with a mouse, amongst other things, with his mother. The twin pranksters' imagination never ceased to irritate him.

"I heard you had agreed to let my brother Akin and his friend Cale accompany you on your journey," he commented, amused, recalling the few sentences his mater had shared with him before departing to awaken the household as she did everyday.

"What?" frowned Shady, his ruddy eyes tired.

He didn't remember agreeing to this.

"Oh, I don't know, it's what mother told me," explained Eben, smile widening.

The grin wasn't natural.  
The grin was freaky.  
It gave Shady the chills.

"Well your mother must be mistaken,' he retorted icily, managing to gather his wits. 'I've never discussed any of this with her."

And without further waiting he started dressing himself, in black pants and a loose white shirt like usual; exhaustively buttoning it. Buttoning was a really too complicated thing to do on mornings.

"Well it would have been a way to repay us for our hospitality," hinted Eben.

Shady froze. Cursed Haunted Well, repaying.

Eben had hit hard in the sensible spot.

Because he could find any excuse he wanted: the thing stood, he had to repay. The Young family had sheltered them and nurtured them, he owned them something. And owning was very important to Sheikah. Beside, Akin seemed half-Hylian, and his people had apparently swore some long time ago on a Goddesses-be-damned whim to protect Hylians. Curse 'em ancestors.

Shady sighed, brusquely assailed by a drastic need for sleep.

"I think I'm going to have to talk about this with your mother."

And he drifted out of the room, dripping wet, mourning for the quiet time where he could sleep in a Castleton bed.

/o\

Emmie was in the kitchen, already starting to cook lunch. She was needed to take care of Jeremy who had a somehow caught a cold – in the middle of summer, could someone please explain her how it was possible to catch a cold in the middle of summer? –, and her presence was also requested in the stables where a pig had overrun Tinan, but that would wait.

This morning she had chosen to cook and others could help their the needful family members in her stead: George had already departed with Jeremy to the infirmary and last she had heard, Peter was making his way to the stables. The rest of the siblings would come down for breakfast later. Perfect, perfect, everything was perfect!

Her moist fingers slipped on the handle of her knife and the blade painfully slid across her finger, peeling a bit of skin off. She winced, and her shoulders slumped, streaks of short blond her getting in her eyes.

No, everything wasn't perfect.

Sighting wearily, she set the knife down and went to grab some tissue from where they had set it, tucked in an alcove in the wall. She fumbled with it, trying to tie it around her wounded index but only managing to rip it with her uneven nails.

"Faron damn this wretched paper..."  
"Here, let me do it," a dreamy voice drifted to her ears.

She jumped, turning to reply, but Shady's nimble fingers were already using a stray elastic band to secure the makeshift bandage. The work done, he stepped back, embarrassingly clearing his throat.

"Cooking can be dangerous."  
"Especially cutting carrots," she answered with a laugh.

And, not the one to let uncomfortable silences settle, she continued:

"You wished to talk to me about something?"

Her eyes trailed shrewdly across the Sheikah's faded white hair, his rusty irises and pale skin. He was, a rather atypical guardian: traditionally Sheikah were reputed to be the best amongst the professionals, being able to teach anything from arithmetic to swordsmanship and magic-dueling, but this one seemed to be a real hopeless case. The mother of fourteen had never seen him teach a single lesson to Arven or Eshé for that matter... Though he had saved them from a spider attack... She tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear and straightened her apron, favoring her injured finger.

"I accept to bring Akin and Cale along with me," replied Shady, ending his short sentence with a look that told her everything had been said.

Emmie smiled and pulled him into a big hug. The young man squirmed at first, letting out an 'oof' of astonishment, then melted into her body, faintly smiling over her shoulder.

"Thank you," the woman beamed, grasping his shoulders.

It had been a real long time he hadn't been hugged.

/o\

Akin smiled, and Eshé couldn't believe it. Cale bent to scoop Arven up in his arms, and decided to tug her up too – heck, why not while he was at it! There was one second where she was in the air laughing, just laughing, his warmth against her.

"Dude!"

And then his arms decided the two girls together were really too heavy and they crashed on Arven's mattress, giggling.

"You're coming with us, I'm so happy," laughed Arven, smiling at the two boys.

She couldn't believe it. Eshé neither. The desert runaway offered a wide, white grin to her friends, and didn't waste time in stating:

"You're so smart of having convinced them, Cale, seriously."

The boy blushed pink with pleasure, murmuring out a 'thank you' that almost caught on his lips. His breath hitched in his throat, as he waited to see if Arven would confirm the compliment, or not, nervous. He fiddled with a lock of his bronze hair.

"Yes he is,' beamed the crow-haired girl, softly piercing the bubble of relief that had been waiting in his chest, letting its cool balm spread to the tips of his toes. 'So are you two also going to participate in the summer competition then? Challenge the magic arenas?"

"Of course,' he confidently replied. Adding, a bit lower: 'I want to beat Oceane..."

Akin and Arven offered him comprehending gazes, and Eshé exclaimed, oblivious:

"I bet I'm the best of us four!"

Arven sighted, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"We haven't even reached Ordon's arena yet, you haven't seen Akin and Cale fight."  
"It doesn't matter,' hotly retorted the foreign teenager. 'I beat you and you're super smart..."

The ambiguous compliment left everyone a bit surprised. Arven bit her lips, wondering if her 'rival' really thought that of her, if she meant it...

"... so I'm technically the best."

Argh, no, of course not. It was just Eshé's overly inflated ego using any means possible to prove its superiority.

"You didn't beat me,' she snapped back. 'It was a tie."  
"I created the last move that killed your mavatar, without me this match wouldn't have been over!"  
"It doesn't matter. You also killed your own."  
"That's not important!"  
"Yes it is."  
"No it's not!"  
"Yes it is!"  
"NO-"  
"It's true you're really smart, Arven," smiled Akin. A good dozen of seconds late. Just how slow was he?

It was at this moment that Annabelle burst in the room, sobbing. The door she'd brusquely pushed back to enter collided against the wall with a loud _BANG _as she rushed to her brother's stunned figure. Akin welcomed her awkwardly, straightening, then completely slumping as if all strength had left him, cradling her.

The raven-haired girl was outright bawling, voice sometimes rising in harsh, angry words, that however hard the audience tried could not be distinguished. She had her face pressed against her brother's shirt and was clinging to fistfuls of it with all her vigor.

"Annie..." Akin mumbled, overwhelmed.  
"Ann'?" stuttered Cale after him, anxious.

He knew the girl well, she wasn't the one to cry for futile matters.

"Ann..." he eventually repeated sadly, as the boy's calls were ignored.  
"You're leaving!" the girl eventually cried out, eyes tinged red and swollen, voice accusing.

They all stilled, and Arven bit her lips, casting her eyes aside. Ah. It was there, the cause of the trouble... Eshé stepped back, troubled. She had been the one to flee her family, not one of those left behind... She couldn't pretend to understand what was going on. Plus, she had no siblings...

Except Tasha.

"It's not the same,' Boo sang sweetly in her ears, a soft humming that almost troubled her vision. 'It's not the same, you had to leave, remember?"

Remember?

"It would have been too late."

Akin and Cale sighted, their breaths dispersing themselves in a gentle harmony. Annabelle pushed her brother back, coming to stand in the middle of the room, and shot a furious glare at the two silently waiting girls.

"You. You're the ones that're taking them away!"  
"Annabelle, you should understand-" intervened Cale.  
"There's nothing to understand." bitterly shot back the young child.

Akin was her favorite brother, the one who thought she was special. Alix and Peter and Eben were triplets and Janis and Samantha were twins, and Tinan was stupid, Jason was mean, Vivian and Ariel were also twins and Lalie and Lilie were also, _also_ twins, and Jeremy was too little it wasn't fair! Why didn't she have a twin, someone who was close to her and cared _only_ about her? She was all alone except for Akin and they were taking that away too now! The girl bit back a sob, tears spilling over the corners of her eyes and tracing a woeful, hot trail down her round cheeks.

Eshé wasn't replying, so Arven took it upon herself to defend them, offended at the stupid accusation: "Your brother made his own choice, and so did Cale. They want to come with us! Would you rather have them stay, are you selfish enough for that?"

"I'm not selfish!" shrilly shouted the girl, balling up her fists.

They were the selfish ones for taking them away!

"Annie..." mumbled Akin, eyes fixed on his feet.  
"We won't forget you Ann', we'll communicate with Iristones," stated Cale, trying to calm the girl down.

He drew her in to hug her, but she violently pulled her slim figure away from him, ocean-blue eyes shooting daggers.

"How can you, just, leave me?' she hiccuped. 'I hate you!"  
"You don't know what hate means, Ann'."  
"Yes I do! Stop treating me like a stupid child, Dindammit I'm _smart_!"  
"If you were smart you wouldn't be quoting Jason!"

Cale's exasperated, loud retort intimidated the young child enough for her to remain silent. She stood as tall and stiff as she could as he sighed tiredly, looking down at her from his one-meter eighty. The quiet lasted long enough for Akin to murmur once more:

"Annie..."

The girl turned around, arms quivering at her sides.

"It's just a couple of months, until school starts again. I'll, we'll come back..."  
"You don't know that." the girl replied, bitterly.

How could see? Akin was her favorite brother, Cale her idol, but even they couldn't predict the future... Arven shut her eyes, blaming herself for her lack of tact, seeing the cause of Annabelle's anger naked before her. She feared, for her big brother, for her two big brothers really... Cale was almost family.

"You can't say that Annie,' gently but firmly chided Akin. 'Shady will take care of us and we have our mavatars by our side. Bulbins and Bokoblins have been chased out of the country since before mom was born..."

Since the year 6001 of the Genesis Order's Calendar, really, meaning around five hundred years ago, but she didn't have the heart to correct him.

"But there are tons of over dangers!' Annabelle burst out. 'There are robbers and killers and Deku Babas and Keeses and-"

"And we have our mavatars," calmly finished Akin, in a tone that didn't invite further argumentation.

His sister took on a stubborn air and snapped her mouth shut, glaring from under her dark fringe. Akin's eyes darkened in response and he took on a hard tone, leaving the rest mute with surprise.

"You're ten years old, Annie. I would understand such a tantrum from Lalie and Lilie, or even Jeremy. But not from you, and I'm very disappointed. I thought you were smarter, and altruist than this, the world doesn't revolve around you. I'm leaving the others too but have you seen them complain? I hope you'll behave better while we're away."

Annabelle stumbled under the weigh of her brother's reproaches, then caught herself, staring at the ground. A palette of emotion swirled across her scarlet face: indignation, anger, humiliation, then sadness and shamefulness. Being left behind, wasn't fun for anyone, but she was the only person shouting about it.

As she started crying again, Akin stepped forward and pulled her into a hug.

/o\

The mood was low, uneasy, when the little troop finally set down for breakfast.

However, such a magnificent sight was waiting for them downstairs, that it sent their moral rocketing sky-high.

Emmie had brought all her children to set the table – minus Jason – up: an hour early. And the result... The result was that the twenty-person, massive wooden table was entirely laden with food: bacon, fried eggs, bread, potatoes and pastries bought at Ordon the previous day; the sheer mass of the fresh food wafted a warm smell intoxicating to any human being that passed by. Eshé rushed downstairs, almost tripping and colliding with the table. And suddenly it was as if, she was a fuse lighting a bomb.

The entire family sprang out at her, from George to sick Jeremy, passing two arguing Lalie and Lilie, Samantha and Janis and their long blond hair, the poised Alix, happy Peter, and blase Eben; dreamy Tinan and polite Jacob. She was surrounded by the crowd and Emmie grabbed Cale for a huge group hug; Jacob was shaking Arven's hand and Annabelle wouldn't let go of Akin's hand.

They were brought to the table. It was all delicious; the cookies, pastries, were warm and chocolaty, satisfying Eshé's sweet tooth – though like said Boo it was a sweet jaw at this point –; the bacon and eggs had been fried in excellent grease and though it disgusted Arven, the rest literally threw themselves on the plate containing them. A good meal makes a good mood, and soon conversation was flowing; the siblings – except, again Jason – all paid their respective goodbyes to the soon-to-be travelers, and especially to Cale and Akin.

The blond boy, though he had calmed Annabelle less than an hour ago... Though he had comforted her, though he was bidding his goodbye, _right now_... still didn't feel anything. His heart seemed limp, and he was apathetic. Akin still didn't fully understand that in less than an hour, he would be _gone_. He was empty, devoid of all thought concerning the departure, it was as if there was a filter on his brain that stopped all words concerning it from entering his misty consciousness.

They were nearing the end of the breakfast, when Eshé noticed Shady. He was glaring down at the table with his rusty eyes as if he could burn holes in the wood, looking indignant and furious: his new predicament had begun to dawn on him.

_Uh _oh, Eshé innocently thought. _Sheikah looks shaken._

And indeed, she couldn't be more right. Because the young adult was fuming.

Two more children.

Children whined, children got lost and angry, and children pooed. This was unacceptable.

But Emmie had asked him to watch over her son and his best friend. But Emmie had hugged him But... but it it wouldn't have felt right to him, who protected a child, to leave two young teenagers alone on the roads. But, but but-

But now he found himself stuck with _four children!_

This would be beyond simply tiring. It would be _exhausting!_

He mournfully went limp, and with a Sheikah's sixth sense, woefully accepted his fate: they would be the death of him.

/o\

"Man, you were really an annoying horse, but I'll miss you."

Boo watched Eshé, sat upon an annoyed Darof. Without any saddle. The girl would never cease to irritate her.

"Get down,' the specter blew out, exasperated. 'You could hurt yourself."

Eshé really didn't need to hurt herself. The Sheikah master had already cornered them yesterday evening and the girl had barely gotten out of the mess created, she really didn't need to go looking for _more _trouble. Not when Boo was counting on her, anyway.

Darof snorted, tail whipping the air, as Eshé bent down to tickle his neck.

"Not in a hundred years," the Gerudo shot back, rolling her amber irises.  
"He's getting angry," warned Boo, weary. And irritated.

Eshé seemed to have a gift to annoy every living soul in her immediate vicinity.

"Nahh, it's fine. He's my horse, he's dah horse, aren't you Dah-rof?" cheerfully trilled the girl.

Argh, fine. Let the brat suffer the consequences of her idiocy. Boo floated up to the ceiling of the wide stables, performing lazy loops around the wooden beams, trailing around their rough patches and observing the world from a funny upside-down perspective. Morning sunlight cascaded through a window far off to the right in luminous, pure beams, highlighting the piles of straw the farm's beasts feasted on.

Suddenly a furious whinny and a shocked cry rang through the air. Boo wheeled around, reverie broken, to find Eshé splayed on the ground, immobile, beside an incensed Darof, eyes round with pain.

"ESHE!" she shrieked, fear coursing through her.

The girl didn't react.

No. No. Not now. They still had so many things to-

Slowly Eshénadoru drew herself up, coughing hoarsely. She spat most of it onto her hand, and wiped that on the wall. Boo flew to her side, panicked, searching for an injury, any injury, and saw the liquid she'd racked up, blanketed on the grey stones of the room.

Blood.

"Eshé?" she murmured, trying to catch the girl's eye.

Her face was hidden by her cloud of hair, her knees drawn up to her body, arms squeezed to her sides. Darof took a few steps back, avoiding Boo's presence, as if almost sensing her furious panic, her instable mood. The girl was really an idiot, she told her a hundred times a day to be careful, _just to be careful_, and she still behaved childishly and _dangerously_! Did she ever look past her own self, did she ever notice how much people were_ counting_ on her? Did she ever take the time to understand how much _Boo_, counted on her?

"It's fine,' a rasping voice broke through her cloud of anger. 'I'm fine."

Now that, was just crossing the lines.

"Now, you're not fine!' the specter exploded. 'You're clearly not-"  
"I've COUGHED BLOOD UP BEFORE!"

The ghost staggered a few steps back, melting into Darof, as Eshé finally rose her head, amber eyes blazing. Defying her to deny this. But she hadn't been there, all those years. Hadn't been there since Eshé's six birthday. The cold truth fell on her now with the force of a bar of steel: she didn't know how far the sickness had gotten.

"Calm down Boo..."

No. Darof looked at his mistress, gesticulating in front of him, like there was a third person in the room, and started munching on some more straw. Now that the sadistic pest had stopped tugging at his mane everything was perfctly fine.

"Just calm down... it'll be fine, I promise,' said Eshé, slowly forcing a bright smile on her face. 'You know what, thanks to this I've even got good news."

Good news? She'd just coughed blood up.

"I can feel my chest again!"

No. Boo refused this, refused that Eshé found a single positive thing to draw out of all of this. How could she stay so happy? Those words, shouldn't be coming out of the mouth of a thirteen year old, they shouldn't be coming out of the mouth of such a buoyant girl, of Eshé's lips.

"Okay." she said, in a broken whisper. Because, really, she didn't know what else to add.

Eshé looked at her with such compassion, that it stupefied the ghost. The runaway, painfully rose, and took a few steps forward, to hug Boo. To hug empty air.

"I can feel my chest again..."

What does it matter you brat, if you're coughing up blood? Eshé closed her eyes, smiling, and Boo stood there. Wishing she could feel the hug. She'd been immaterial for so long, that she couldn't even remember, touching, smelling, tasting. She'd forgotten all those senses, from her place as a specter. She'd retreated to Eshé's unconscious all those long years and the last shreds that had remained of her contact with the living world, the bond, had withered away... Leaving an empty feeling. Leaving her disconnected, leaving her experiencing through Eshé; leaving her dependent on Eshé. It wasn't fair... It wasn't fair, that she was a ghost, that such a young girl was sick...

"Eshé? We're leaving!"

The voice startled them both, and they jumped, runaway and reflection alike. The boy called Akin was hesitating on the doorway, hazel gaze sliding from a surprised-looking Eshé – arms bent in a circle around what seemed thin air – and her horse, who was ostensibly turning his back to the girl. His owner had pulled at his mane once too often, once too often he snortled.

"I'm coming!" exclaimed the girl, a bright smile stretching her cheeks, all the way up to her eyes.

She was coming, for the start of her adventure. Who knew, where it would take her...?

Boo stayed frozen still, next to Darof, as Eshé skipped off with Akin. Wondering where indeed, their travels would end. Wondering, how long Eshé's body would keep up with them...

Because Eshé could play pretend all she liked. Maybe she could feel her chest again. But, like Boo had told her two days ago in a steamy bathroom, it would never be like before...

"I'll watch out for her in your place, you'll see," she told the horse.

He bent down to sniff at the straw, chortling.

/o\

"Goodbyyyyye!" poured out a chorus of voices, low and high-pitched, vibrant, dull, passionate and uncaring alike.

Sunlight streamed down to the assembly that stood waiting on the edge of the fields, anticipation thickly lacing their thoughts. The burnt-golden corn stayed perfectly immobile, an army of stiff soldiers keeping watch of the house and its family.

Eben sighted. The sad truth was... He wasn't going to miss his brother. He didn't know his brother. Akin was an impassible, neutral and soppy guy that never talked about himself and only listened to others. He had no personality. When he was young, they'd often wondered if he was mute. But now, he'd grown, and he sometimes talked. And indeed, he was currently talking, hugging his mother.

This simple act brought him back to the goodbye.

He'd never have thought that Akin would be the first of them to leave. He'd maybe seen Jason running away, Janis carving her own path, or Alix taking off; he'd seen himself showing the way for his younger siblings, yes. But he hadn't thought, never, that it would be the little boy who cried when they changed the roses in the vase, when they painted a room a new color or when he got a new girlfriend, that would venture out of the warm cocoon of their everyday to the unknown.

Akin wasn't cut out to go off in the wild. He was a dreamy kid who said little and hid behind his mother, a kid who never showed emotion, not an adventurer.

Akin shouldn't have been the first one to leave.

And their mother should not have allowed his departure.

The tall red-head sighted, and took a step toward the crowd.

Akin was buried in one of Samantha's desperate, needy embraces – he sometimes wondered if becoming a soldier had been a better alternative for her boyfriend than outright breaking up with her – buried neck deep in her golden curls. Janis was standing in front of that mess, waiting for her turn to bid her goodbyes to her little brother.

Emmie had turned to hug Eshé and Arven.

"You'll watch out, girls? For yourselves and for my little Akin and Cale too!"

The two were nodding, Arven staying surprised at such a display of affection from a near-stranger.

"Sure Emmie-"  
"We'll watch out for them, ma'am," completed the crow-haired teen.  
"I'm worried about Akin you know, he always seems so strong but it's been frightening me that on the inside, he maybe isn't as happy..."

Eben dropped out of the conversation, totally disinterested.

Only his brother's best-friend, the tall oaf he followed everywhere, was missing from the picture.

Said teenager was indeed a little further off to the side, behind the great tree.

"Bye bye Cale," was shamefully murmuring Annabelle, clutching the taller teen's hands.

The boy bent down, balancing on a knee-high root. He plunged his green eyes into her ocean-blue irises with an uncharacteristic seriousness.

"The tantrum this morning is forgiven Ann... on one condition." he stated, the amusement in his tone contrasting with his perfectly calm face.  
"What?" asked the girl, wide-eyed. She wanted forgiveness, she didn't want to part with them on that memory...  
"When we'll be gone, you have to promise me to behave good! Study hard, I know you're smart, and don't let those stupid guys at school get to you."

Oh! The girl nodded vigorously.

Cale looked around covertly, hopping down, and staged-whispered in her ear: "I have a present for you...".

That immediately got her attention. Akin's best-friend took her open palm and in it softly pressed... a dark grey, polished pebble. Annabelle blinked, disappointed, a frustrated retort bubbling on her red lips. She struggled to stay nice, firmly reminding herself anger hadn't solved anything this morning.

"Uh... What is it?"  
"Something I picked up in the depths of the Ordon Spring...' came his playful reply, that sorted nothing out of the girl's disarray. 'It's been soaked in there for maybe up to a few thousand years, considering the mud I had to sift through to find it. Legend has it that the spring's water have healing properties and can even tamper with fate, so it should bring you luck!"

Annabelle comically gasped in awe, her pupils widening and a slight blush coming to her cheeks. She couldn't believe the chivalrous and caring Cale, the hero of her childhood, was giving her this – such a valuable present! The young girl rose her head to meet the teenager's gaze, maybe a bit too quickly – a jab of pain careened through her neck – and brushed her heavy black fringe off to the side. Cale lifted her up in his arms, secretly wincing at the weigh, and threw her into a wild, laughing her twirl.

The rest of the party, on the other side of the tree, heard the panicked cries before they even knew when the two had gone off to.

Alix was the quickest. She was, after all, the one that would take care of any issue her siblings had, the was always the on the front lines; her slim legs reacted before her head. Eshé followed her, because refused to be left behind – after that it was an indescribable scramble.

"Ann'?"  
"Annie?"  
"Anna!"  
"An!"

They fanned out, under the leafy canopy, plunged in the hot summer air.

The cries had turned into giggles. Cale had, in his haste, tripped on the root, and Annabelle had fallen on top of him, resulting in a painful collision with the ground. They lay, on a carpet of last autumn's leaves, looking at the sunlight that filtered through the highest reaches of the tree.

That is until Alix finally reacted, and snatched Annabelle up, snapping: "Think outside your own little mind for once! Can you even imagine how worried you just got us there?"

Jacob's hand settled on the elder girl's shoulder, reminding her of the situation. Arguing while bidding goodbyes brought back luck – who knew when they would all see each-other again?

"Sor-ree," mumbled the child, eyes on the ground.  
"Don't use that tone, young lady," grumbled Jacob.  
"You shouldn't make her believe she's a lady, or it'll just get worse." stated Alix.  
"I can't get worse that yo-"  
"Now now, Annabelle..."  
"Do you want to skip dinner tonight?" snapped the elder redhead, offended.  
"You know it's true, you're the worst of all of us, Alix," hissed Jason from his place, isolated from the crowd.  
"Jason! Alix!" exclaimed Emmie, incensed to see her children fighting as Akin was departing.  
"You're the one to talk, _Jason_," snarled Alix.

"Stop at once," commanded Jacob.  
"You're both as horrible as the other, there, that should end the competition," coldly declared Eben.

This statement cast a chill on the group. The uninvolved rest shot glances of bewilderment at each-other, Arven especially feeling lost, never having had any siblings.

Akin was the one to help Cale back up, after checking on his little sister.

George was the one to break the silence. The bearded man took a step forward, snapping into focus the attention of the whole crowd. His eyes looked like metal, not in the smooth, unyielding way you would expect; but as if needles were concealed in his gaze.

"I would like to thank Shady for shouldering the responsibility of taking care of our two young boys, on the behalf of all the Youngs present here. You will be welcome among us in any time of need," he began, in a quiet voice. His tone became firmer. 'However the people I would most like to address, are my nephew Akin, his friend Cale, as well as Eshé and Arven."

The four startled, and took a few steps forward to face the man, shoulder to shoulder.

"You are very young to travel the roads, even with a chaperone. The four of you remain but mere children, you do not yet know the dangers they represent. Do not let your freedom rob your caution, because it would be foolish mistake that would only show your lack of maturity. Listen to your elders and above all, don't play Hero. You don't have what it takes for that role, yet."

Arven narrowed her eyes, angered by the totally uncalled-for lecture, and Eshé balled her fists, thinking "You haven't seen a tenth of what I've lived in thirteen years, old man," but having the sense not to open her mouth. Boo suddenly popped above her, and snorted.

"I'd forgotten humility could kill, but looking at you, I could almost just believe it."

If the runaway could have mentally killed the specter, she would.

Cale on the other hand, looked like he was seriously considering those George's words. He'd need, to, after all, to protect his one and only love Arven!

And Akin remained the incarnation of a stoned street artist. "Yes, uncle George," he docilely agreed, acquiescing. It was pointless to argue, after all, right?

The others followed his lead, more or less reluctant. It was then that Shady stepped forward, and, laying a firm hand on Arven and Eshé's shoulders, thanked George.

"... moreover I remain grateful of your hospitality, and it will not be forgotten," the young Sheikah finished, already exhausted by his speech. Roll on for bedtime tonight...

"Nor will you great favor be forgotten by us,' smiled Emmie, tucking a streak of blond hair behind her ear. 'To the children... I fully agree with what George has said, you must listen to him. But above all, consider that in this journey, you will learn new things, collide with new horizons and discover new worlds. Be open-minded, but above all, trust. Trust in yourself, trust in others, and together you will build the future. Because, you _are_ our future."

Eshé, Arven, Cale and Akin looked at each-other, dumbfounded, until Cale smiled. He understood...

They crossed the sunny corn fields, the entirety of the family following them. Jeremy clutched on to Cale's wide pants, stumbling once and every so often, and the bronze-curled teen ended up scooping him in his arms. The young boy stared at him with wide, blue eyes, soft blond girls playing around his round cheeks. Why were they leaving...? He hadn't understood the first time around, and he still didn't understand.

They reached the start of the forest. Cale turned to Janis and handed her his young charge, as the young woman smiled, tickling her youngest brother. He kicked and twisted, and she struggled with him, but ended up with a foot in the stomach and let go, couching.

"Don't want you to go!" yelled Jeremy, running to Cale.

"But I have to Jeyjey..." sighed the tall teen. He took a step back, towards Eshé, Arven, and Shady, who were waiting in the first reaches of the woods. Akin lingered next to his friend, unsure.

Cale was going to miss them all. His real family.

"Don't want you to _go!"_ the boy persisted, on the verge of tears. He was clutching his teddy-bear.

It only took a second for Emmie to come forward and softly tug him to her arms, hoisting her youngest son up. Her gaze met Akin's, and Cale's.

"No!" shouted Jeremy.

His mother, all of them's mother, really, stepped forward and gathered the three boys in a wide hug.

"I'm going to miss you two,' she whispered, recalling her earlier goodbyes with the girls. 'Don't do anything dangerous."

Akin nodded, numb, still not feeling anything. His reason told him he should, that there should be a pinch in his heart, a longing, a sadness, a pain, _anything... _But it was the void.

"Don't worry mom," he mumbled in reply, melting into her warm body.

It was then Jeremy finally started crying, plunging his teary ocean-blue eyes in Cale's green irises.

"Big bro'er..." he declared.

And then Cale knew. He was family.

/o\

The tree was majestic. It seemed, the representation of nature, thousands of years old. The trunk was many times a man's width, dark, almost black; the leaves had slowly died to color themselves in some brittle brown, barely hanging on the branches by their rotten stems. Carpets of them crunched beneath their feet, from which sprung ants, bugs, insects that made Arven jitter nervously.

The tree was dead. Just as it seemed to have been, since hundreds of lifetimes, retaining only an aura of faded memories, bittersweet emotions and washed-away hues.

Even Eshé was silent – a miracle.

Akin smiled, numb, his hand nonetheless itching to draw all the details of the wood, its rough patches, its dark veins; the places where it was dead and rotten, those where it shone in the soft, diffuse light of the forest. Fungi grew at its base, eating away at the first centimeters of the roots, grouping in whole bunches; royal palaces of opalescent domes.

Arven stood behind Shady, curious.

It was Eshé that broke the contemplative silence. She rose an imperious finger, pointing the fungi growing around the tree, and dramatically affirmed: "Mushroom."

Shady cracked a smile, remembering their discussion all those nights ago. He opened his mouth to reply, but someone was quicker.

"Were there mushrooms in the desert?"

Ah, Arven: a model student, always so curious, who genuinely liked learning.

"No,' explained Eshé, greatly enjoying the mark of attention. 'Shady told me what it was the night before the spiders."  
"Shady gave you a lesson?" the crow-haired girl asked, mouth agape.

The lazy Sheikah, actually moving his ass to teach something? And not to her, but to Eshé? Irrational jealousy immediately took over her initial surprise, but she pushed it away long enough to add:

"He hasn't taught me anything since the start of my journey."  
"How come?" inquired Cale with a falsely innocent air, secretly pleased to see his love point flaws out of his oblivious rival.  
"He's too lazy," the girl explained.

Meanwhile Shady struggled to know if he should feel outraged at this obvious lack of respect, or relieved the girl wouldn't force him to actually take his job seriously. Maybe both.

"Oh, but I _can_ teach a lesson," he stated, amused, playing along.  
Arven arched her eyebrows. "Oh really?"  
"I bet you can't," added Eshé, and that all made them smile.

It was a bet that had joined their two distinct paths into one, after all.

"Alright, well, I will then." he retorted, immediately regretting his words when he took in their keen, bright glances.

Nayru be damned, they actually _wanted _them to teach him? Didn't normal kids hate that? Why weren't these normal kids?

"On what?" asked Akin, smiling.  
"It won't be on something complicated,' interjected Arven. 'He can't: he's _much_ too lazy for _that_."  
"And anyways he must have slept through his studies, right? It's beyond his competences now!" gently mocked Eshé, a gleam in her amber irises.

The young adult grouchily sighted, pretending to take offense, and offered a pointed ruddy glance at the four.

"Fine, I'm going to teach you about the Dissociation Phenomena, you've asked for it."

A huge, heavy, flat screed of silence fell on the group. Streams trickled along the mossy ground of the forest. A nut fell on the floor beside them.

"As in, here?" Cale stammered. "As in, now?"  
"Does that mean we have to sit on the ground?" asked Arven, offended at the very idea.  
"Yes, to both," broadly smiled Shady. Aah, authority, sweet authority... Suddenly he didn't regret becoming a guardian.

Eshé jumped up, and heavily fell flat on her stomach with a huge _POOF_, clouds of dead leaves swirling around her. With her tan skin, knotted hair and amber eyes, she could almost blend in the mess. Akin settled down beside her, a smile still plastered to his face, and Cale ended up by taking a spare shirt from his bag for Arven to sit on, chivalrous as always. Shady perched himself on a root of the tree, overlooking the teenagers.

"Alright,' the began. 'So, does anyone know what the dissociation phenomena is?"

To nobody's surprise, especially not his, Arven raised her hand, patiently waiting for permission to speak. Cale also did, and he favored him over his student, knowing that she would get the answer right anyways.

"The D.P happens to all magic-duelers at some point in their life, more or less accented according to their powers, the intensity of their practice, and the frequency of the sessions. It consists in... um... Well basically, when someone starts of in magic-dueling, his mavatar is always a perfect copy of him. But as time goes on, the mavatar with start to change, according to the owner's desires, fears, origins... And in most cases take on a definite form, sometimes animal-like, other times like a human or a monster-like."

"Alright,' smiled Shady. They were getting somewhere. 'Do you know why the dissociation process happens then?"

Again, Arven raised her hand, but this time it was Akin he picked.

The boy ran a hand along his neck, and slowly let his breath out: "The first thing to know, is that when a dueler materializes his mavatar, he is taking a part of himself, separating it from his mind, and physically setting it in the real world. That's why it's immensely draining, according to the length of time the duel lasts, the powers used... a duel is physically, emotionally, psychologically and magically demanding."

He paused for a second and Arven offered him a smile of encouragement: Akin was off to a good start.

"From the point a mavatar is projected, it is fully conscious, like a sentient being. It doesn't have our intelligence because it's only a small part of our minds, but since it has been separated from us, it thinks and acts on its own, and just communicates mentally with us when it needs to. For example when we give it an order in a magic-duel. So the more time a mavatar spends outside our minds, the more it can experiment, grow up... like a small child if you will. There is a part of it that is linked to us, and another part that becomes its own, the thing that defines it. When that change has become really significant, the mavatar changes appearance to take its own unique one: that is the dissociation phenomena."

Shady blinked, impressed by the boy's knowledge. He didn't look it, but he was smart! Cale smiled, feeling proud of his friend, as said boy brutally became red and mumbled something unintelligible, hiding behind his green bandana.

"Well done Akin!' Shady congratulated the boy. He swiveled to the only girl that hadn't participated at all in their lesson: Eshé. 'So, can you tell me if there are characteristics of a mavatar's appearance typical to their type of magic?"  
"Oh! Uh..." the girl blinked, then smiled. "What's a type of magic?"

There was a astounded silence.

"Y... you don't know what a type of magic is?" asked Cale, at loss for words.  
"Didn't you go at school?"  
"Well of course I did..." Eshé grew somber. She'd just scared all the teachers away.  
"Then how can you not know?" demanded Arven, still surprised.  
"I don't, alright!' the girl snapped back, her awfully limited sense of auto-derision finally rebelling. 'But go on, if you're so smart, enlighten me!"

Arven's blue-gray irises flashed with defiance and she straightened, firmly placing her hands on her lap.

"Fine then."  
"Yeah, fine."  
"Fine."  
"Well go on!"

They glared at each-others, gazes intense with fire and ice. Arven eventually sighted, ending the silent challenge.

"Okay. You remember that we're going to enter a competition to challenge all the magic arenas of Hyrule, right?"  
"Well of course," tartly stated Eshé as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, peering at her interlocutor with narrowed eyes: was she taking her for an idiot or...?

Arven rolled her eyes.

"Well, each arena is specialized in what we call a 'type' of magic. There are eight of them: Natural, Mineral, Plasma, Shadow, Aerial, Light, Water, and Spirit. For example the first Arena master, Ruls of Ordon, is a master of natural magic. Certain types of magic are more effective against others, or are weak against others. Natural magic is weak against Plasma and Aerial, but strong against Mineral and Water."

Eshé narrowed her eyes once more. Raised her eyebrows. Then frowned. Then sucked in a deep breath as she was about to launch herself into a speech, faltered, snapped her mouth shut and tentatively started again:

"I don't understand."  
Arven turned purple. "What? How can you not?"

And the others agreed: how could she not? It was the very basic of what they were taught at school!

"It doesn't interest me.' impatiently explained Eshé. 'So I won't understand."  
"But... you don't want to learn?" ventured Cale, green eyes puzzled.  
"Nah!' yawned the girl, a smile managing to stretch the corners of her mouth nonetheless. 'Why tire yourself out when you can just learn with experience after all?"

This retort drew a contemptuous snort out of Arven.

"Learn of out experience? Keep dreaming, you're going to hit the dust Eshé! Nobody can just waltz in and win every challenge they face with just instinct and a bit of luck, they'll necessarily be a moment when that won't be enough and you're going to regret your not learning when you had the chance."

Shady lied his rusty eyes on his riled up student, pondering her words. All that she said was true, however Eshé had proven to be very resourceful and she _had _done much better than Arven during their magic-duel... simply thinking out of conventions and using her own style of combat. However it was true that there always came a moment where hope and hazard weren't enough.

"I wouldn't be talking if I were you, _Arven,_' Eshé was hotly shooting back. 'After all I won our duel."  
"For the hundredth time you did _not!_"  
"_Yes_ I did, accept the _truth_ already-"  
"Well Shady,' smiled Akin. 'You do know how to teach a lesson."

Calm returned as the two girls stopped, stunned at being so brusquely cut off. And the Sheikah laughed, embarrassed.

/o\

They walked for a long time, the girls sometimes bickering, but mostly not talking. The disputes were already sickening Cale – couldn't the two work over their difference to understand each-other? He didn't get their pointless rivalry, they had so much to learn from one another.

Akin was talking flowers and herbs – _again_ – with Arven, and Shady sometimes chimed in to correct them or add some knowledge of his own. Though it was mostly his student correcting_ him_, and not the other way around.

"Shouldn't we stop for the night?" eventually suggested Cale, earning a look of infinite gratefulness from Shady.

The group had just found a sort of large dip in the ground, and it was true, that it was getting late. It would take time to unpack the tents, make dinner, and find a place to shower... This was the right moment to stop.

Cale smiled, moving to help Arven with her tent and feeling immensely satisfied Shady wasn't getting anywhere near her. She was _his_ most beautiful Arven-dearest, after all!

At first, nobody noticed Akin's slight figure, frozen still in the middle of the tip. They set their tents, Arven tugging her shoes off and sighting in satisfaction as she wriggled her toes, Cale looking on in adoration... But eventually, the crow-haired girl noticed his blank, numb look, and approached him, asking worriedly: "What's going on Akin?"

Shady, sprawled on the moss, already half-dreaming, first believed he had heard wrong. But when the blond farmer, repeated his words, he had to face reality.

"Where's Eshé?"

They'd lost her.

/o\

"I'M HEEEERE!" shouted the girl, suddenly bursting from the bushes.

Her hair was wild, her boy's clothe, disheveled, and her eyes laughing as everybody looked on, at loss for words.

"Sorry,' she started, not sounding sorry at all, 'My foot was hurting and I realized there was a pebble between my toes so I had to stop."

Arven looked at her feet critically: they were bare, since the girl hadn't wanted to wear her Gerudo shoes, and they'd found no pair her size at the Young's place. Covered in dirt and mud, smudged brown and black, they looked like wolf's paws more than anything, the only human aspect in them being the runaway's wriggling toes.

… It was completely gross to walk a whole day without shoes, Din knew what diseases she had caught in the forest, and on top of that, she was slowing them down!

"I'm going to cook dinner," Arven grumpily stated, as Shady tiredly scolded the girl for giving them such a fright.

The result was kind of pitiful and not intimidating at all, and, seeing the opportunity to rid herself of this bothersome adult, Eshé exclaimed:

"I'm cooking with you!"

Well. She had no objection to that, for once the girl was acting in a remotely responsible and helpful way.

"We're going to finish setting up the tents, you can rest Shady," smiled Akin, and Cale nodded along with him.

As long as the Sheikah didn't get near his miracle of miracles.

So the boys planted the tents, unpacking their sleeping bags and checking their surroundings for wild animals. Dusk was ceding its rusty rule to twilight, and cool evening air slowly sank through the trees to reach their small silhouettes. Everywhere a mysterious painter brushed streaks of purples and blues, highlighting the canopy with rare hues of a faded pink, slowly singing its way into the welcoming arms of the night. Nothing broke the silence save rare chirps of birds, valiantly resisting the dark and the cold with their pure, crystalline voices, ruffling their feathers in a vain attempt to stay warm. Milky halos of  
white illuminated the somber skies, not yet precising themselves into the cold chips of ivory that would soon rule the night.

The two sighted, meeting gazes and thinking about how glad they were, to be on this adventure. Cale though, was still worried... Something bugged him in his childhood companion's hazel orbs.

"Are you okay, Akin?"  
"Of course," the boy immediately replied, confused.

Cale bit his lip. No, that wasn't the right question.

"Are you happy then?"

And the reply was much longer to come. The taller teen's heart slowly increased the speed of its swift gallop as the silence deepened, becoming heavier, more meaningful. Akin bent to finish their last tent, stroking the rough white canvas of its walls.

"Akin, are you happy?" he repeated, worried. Had he made the right choice to embark his friend away from his family, all that he clung to?  
"Huh?' the boy startled, glancing up at him with a smile. 'I'm sorry, I didn't catch what you just said!"

Cale scratched his neck, biting his cheek.

"... it's nothing, don't worry,' he eventually mumbled. 'It wasn't anything important."  
"Alright!' shrugged his friend. Then he added, thoughtful: 'I think we should go check on the girls..."

Cale nodded. And a wise decision it was indeed. While the boys had rested their minds a bit, simply enjoying the soothing balm of one another's company, other minds hadn't been as appreciative of their time together.

"Not like that!" exclaimed Arven, horrified.

Eshé was throwing everything she got her hand of in the soup – a fistful of salt, pork, fish, courgette, some rice – and the result looked absolutely horrible, a brown, murky, greenish brew. Arven grabbed the runaway's tan hand to stop her from adding shallots, and the girl tugged it away, offended.

"Don't you know how to cook? You need to follow a recipe!" Arven cried out.

She puffed her cheek out and crossed her arms, the shallots falling lamely on the grass:

"Oh you're a real pain in the butt, it's going to be perfectly fine!"  
"Do you _at least_ have any actual cooking experience?"  
"Naaaah!"  
"Well why did you cook then, it's going to be gross!"

"You weren't moving your ass to do it!"  
"Yes I did, _I _was the one supposed to cook!"  
"_Supposed_ to, there, you got the key word!"

Fiery glare met icy eyes, and they shouted, "AAARGH!" jumped on one-another, and started rolling around the grass, pulling at hair, skin, scratching and punching. It was at this moment that Cale arrived, appalled, and separated them, while Akin hurried to salvage what he could of their dinner.

They all ate quietly, Shady barely awakening enough to stuff forkfuls of food which he found 'excellent' in his mouth – Eshé offered a vindictive glance to Arven and she gritted her teeth. That night the boys fell quickly asleep, and the girls ended once again in the same tent, though calm found it much harder to settle down around them for some strange reason.

Only the stars were witness of their sleep...

/o\

But the stars were also witnesses of many, many things else.

"Open the gates!" she called, shouting so the guards patrolling the walls would hear here.

A hot breeze from the desert was blowing over Lake Hylia, curling around her body and chasing drops of perspiration away from her neck. She stood perfectly still, in her light traveling clothe, so typical of her people.

No reply. She could distinguish a figure atop of the stone rampart, but it seemed to be slouched across a chair. Apparently the guards here weren't overworked.

"Open the gates!" she shouted, louder, slapping her mare to elicit a stunned – but earsplitting – whinny. Hopefully that would be enough to wake up the decadent watch.

"Sorry, Ashaka. You'll get a sugar cube in the morning to make up for that, I promise."

Well, she would, if they bothered to open the damn gates. Thankfully, she noticed a second figure making its way to the sleeping guard, and shake him awake. The shadowy form bent to her and yelled back, in an unpleasant tone:

"State your name and business, stranger!"

She tipped her head back to reply, squaring her shoulders and standing proud:

"I am Tasha, born to the family of the Dune where Moldorm Resides, Second Family to have answered his Noble Majesty the King's Calling, Official Envoy of his Royal Highness the Master of the Desert, High Protector of Sands, Chosen One of the Goddess and Lord of the Blessed Desert People, and I demand decent shelter for the night!"

Silence. The man backed away, looking flustered, to her immense satisfaction. The first one jumped up, seeming more than irritated, yelled back:

"What's your problem, coming to bother honest citizens at one a.m?"

Oh, she'd woken up the poor little cutie? She could almost have laughed.

"You're a guard, it's your job," came her pointed reply.

She was hot, sweaty, dirty and tired, and two idiots were keeping her from a cold shower and a comfortable bed? Sands was this annoying!

"Who're you to tell me my job?"  
"Are you sure you want me to repeat everything?" she asked, on off-chance.  
"Oh you're really starting to get on my ner-"

The man broke off the second went to whisper in his ears. She stiffened, squinting her eyes at their two silhouettes, haloed silver by the moonlight. Maybe the second had come to his senses.

They disappeared and she blew an annoyed sight, turning to look at the lake. The people in Ousebourg had warned her: Severn's inhabitants were hostile and bitter. Well, it was probably vengeful gossip, but there certainly seemed to be an air of truth about it.

The dark water softly came to lap at the sandy shores, a dozen or so meters away from her. Above it, a grand, somber outline against the night sky; Hylia's bridge, indifferently barring the heavens with its ancient mass.

A powerful metallic hum startled her out of her silent contemplation, and she wheeled around, finding herself face to face with the first guard, a hulking mass beside her mare. He was holding a sword.

Instinct reacted before reason and she slid out her two cutlass, dropping to the ground and getting below his guard to warningly slide one along his stomach.

"One move and you die."  
"No, one move and _you _die."

She froze as felt a cold blade press against the side of her neck. Shit. The second guard.

How stupid was she, she'd forgotten him!

"Let me go and you shall not be punished," she growled, dropping her weapons.

The first guard backed away, free of any threat, and plunged two blue eyes in her golden pair, laughing.

"That's a daring request for Gerudo scum!"

How dare he? Anger broiled in her veins, in the blood of her ancestors, and she immediately snapped back:

"I forbid you to insult my people!"

He narrowed his two irises and stepped forward, raising his sword again. The blade pressed against her naked diaphragm, forcing her to back against the second guard, sliding her neck along his dagger and drawing a thin line of blood. Nervous, Ashaka whinnied and softly backed away, her reigns trailing along the dusty ground.

"You are in position to forbid me_ nothing_, woman!" he growled.  
"I don't call that a woman, I call that a slut," hissed his companion, caressing her stomach with his rough hand.

She spat on it, furious. "I am the official desert enjoy and I demand respect!"

At this, the first guard finally snapped. He raised his weapon and hissed:

"You'll have _respect_ from my sword-"  
"STOP!"

A stunned silence settled on the three as a lean young man rushed through the now open gates, his voice commanding. The sword clattered out of the first guard's hand as he clumsily deviated his blow.

"I am Lord Ethan of House Stark, and I order you to let this woman pass!"

The men both stilled as she broke into a large smile, reacting instantly.

"If you'll excuse me," she politely inquired, pushing the second guard's blade away from her neck. Better be safe than sorry.

He said something she didn't hear, casting her a vicious glance.

"Pardon me?"  
"No concern to you," he snapped.  
"Now now, gentlemen," came her savior's voice, loud and clear.

She took her mare's bridle and swiftly walked away, following the young man. Behind her, the guards indulged themselves a couple of furious whispers, but fell silent when her impromptu hero cast a steely glance back at them.

He hadn't changed a iota since the last time she'd seen him, three years ago, she noted during a brief flash of focus in the midst of her tired relief. Brown eyes, almost black; hair a mix of auburn and darker shades, laced with blond, a lean frame deprived of any muscle and a smart, ready stance. Pale skin and elegant hands, both made for indoors and not for her style of life. Ethan Stark. Honestly, their time together was a mixed, wry bag, and this was the first time he'd ever made himself really useful, but... well she wouldn't complain considering the circumstances.

They entered the town, and he turned to face the guards, all in controlled sarcasm. "I trust you to work as hard for the following hours as you seemed to have done until now."  
The guards saluted with a crisped smile. "Sir, yes sir!"

They saluted and he grabbed her arm, pulling her and Ashaka into a side-street.

Severn's homes were made of stone, supported by an armada of wooden beams; their pointed roofs creating a landscape of shadowy valleys and silvery peaks in the stark – no pun intended, she thought with a wry smile – moonlight that cascaded down from the inky heavens. Darkness crept along the edges of the alley where they briskly walked, their steps ringing out clearly against the pavement. From a cellar to their right came the scent of wine turned sour.

They turned to a town-house that looked to be slightly leaning towards the right, and he slid a key from under the 'welcome' doormat – how cliche, she'd have to remind him to hide it elsewhere – to open the door.

"You can leave your horse outside, nobody will take it as long as it's tied to this house."

She happily obeyed, and gently stroked Ashaka goodnight. "Sugar cube in the morning, I swear."

The inside of the house had a faded, slightly sweet feel to it. They stood a chamber that was both living-room and kitchen; but the difference between those parts didn't seem to have been correctly understood by the occupant, as absolutely every inch of the place was covered with papers, books, more papers, and test-tubes, bain-marie and all those weird things she couldn't find the name of.

Ethan took a step towards two large leather armchairs, that waited next to a wide fireplace – though by this point it would have been folly to light it – and hefted a large pile of dictionaries from one for her to sit.

He joined her soon after, and they locked gazes, him smiling that crooked smile he'd always served her, that smug smile, that insolent smile. She was by two years his elder but he'd never acknowledged that or properly respected her – further inclining her not to respect _him_, the bored and brilliant boy, the foreign boy, the well-raised and well-bred boy.

"Well I certainly hope you're not leading a Gerudo invasion, because in this case I'd have a few problems with my reputation," he laughed.  
"No, I-"  
"But don't worry Tasha, I'd cover you, even if it's been a damn long time."  
"Three years," she replied involuntarily, instinctively, and sighed.

He'd left the eve of Eshé's tenth birthday, but that wasn't the point.

"Eshé's disappeared."

He froze. Raised an eyebrow, smiled a bit, sunk into his welcoming armchair, then tensed and sat ramrod stiff. Looking every bit the agitated scientist, complete with disheveled hair and focused near-black eyes. A bygone echo, to what it was before.

Eventually, he exclaimed, incredulous: "well, why aren't you in the desert looking for her?"

She didn't know why, it struck her, his skeptical tone, his stunned comment. Maybe because, he was counting on her just like everybody else, to watch over Eshé. Everybody had counted on her, him, Link, Eshé's father, everybody...

"She fled to Hyrule!" she cried out, slapping her hand on the armchair, on anything she could find, to make him see, that this mattered. Mattered to her if not to him.

She understood now. Eshé was in Hyrule, in a place she didn't know, in a place _Tasha _didn't know. It was real, she wasn't just on a wild goose chase, it was really happening. Her childhood friend was _out _there.

Ethan jumped up and paced to wide wooden table, where three tubes containing yellow, red, and blue liquids were precariously balanced on a stack of paper, a mug of coffee abandoned next to audacious edifice.

"You mean she really ran away," he said in a low-tone. "You mean she packed her bags and left."

She didn't reply.

"But why? Why now? Did something happen, with you, with her father? Is it Link, did she want to join him, because he never visited? Did something happen...?"

Yes. Something had happened.

"What could have _happened_, Tasha?"

He sounded so confused, that she told him. She spilled everything, about how Eshé had been forbidden to ride, about how that day, she'd told her she couldn't do sports anymore. About how she'd told her to stop being selfish because of the makeup, but really about that simple thing: Eshé was sick. That was the core of the problem, wasn't it? And then Tasha had left the bathroom, and hadn't seen her protege for the rest of the evening...

"YOU'VE DONE _WHAT_?" he erupted, indignant.  
"Ethan..." she said, unsure of how to-  
"Do you actually realize what you've done? You forbade her to do everything that made her happy and then kept pushing her down! I know Eshé always sees the good sides of things but she can't invent them either!"  
"Ethan _please!_"

He leaned against the wall, resting his head on his raised forearm, balling his other fist and then letting his fingers shoot up to his hair. Pulling at it.

"I... I couldn't do anything else... Her father, the doctors had all agreed, I..."

But she stopped, because he was far from here, plunged in his memories.

It was a hot summer's day. Eshé had been born in the middle of August, and her birthday was nearing, leaving her full of excitement and babbling about presents. He was in his apartments, where it was cooler, bent on a difficult experience on a moldorm. When he'd seen the round-faced kid come hurtling in his room, he'd known there was a problem: she was always playing outside and nagging the guards to teach her how to fight, so seeing her willingly come indoors was a rare sight.

"Is something wrong Eshé?" he'd asked, dropping his pen, concerned.

She'd imperiously sat on the little stool he'd set beside his desk, and flashed an amber glare at him.

"Yes, something's wrong! One of my best-friends didn't even stop to say hello and I just heard the other was leaving the evening before my birthday."

Oh. He stayed stunned for second, before realizing that indeed, his father's contract ended on the eight, and they were leaving on the ninth: just before the anniversary of her birth.

"Oh, I'm sorry Eshé! I didn't choose the date... So what, Link didn't stop to say hello?"

She gave him a significant grimace that made him laugh. No, of course their friend hadn't stopped by, since he'd discovered himself a talent in magic-dueling it was all he ever thought about.

He then turned serious again, and added, trying to console her: "But just because I'm leaving doesn't mean I don't have a present in mind for you!"

In fact, the present had been in mind for a long time, and he just knew Eshé would love it. The little girl's pout resisted for a second, but soon melted away.

"Really?' she exclaimed, smiling a toothy grin. 'What's it?"  
"Surprise!" he replied, satisfied with his little effect.  
"No, tell me!"  
"It wouldn't be a surprise then!"

The child sat still for a second, mouth forming an 'o' of surprise. Oh, yeah, that was true.  
Ethan would have almost hoped to return to his experiment, but no, no such luck, because the blessed second when she'd taken the time to think was over.

"What are you doing? Is it interesting? Can you explain?" she demanded, noticing what her friend's activities.

Ethan then started to explain his experiment in a passionate tone, with a great many wide gestures and complicated scientific terms. The girl probably didn't understand most of what he was saying, but she kept grinning and putting on a focused little frown. The scientist observed her an instant as she trailed her small hands along the glass cage where the moldorm was held, smiling with nostalgic air.

"What's going on, Eshé?" he asked her, leaning towards the girl.

She startled.

"Oh... I... I guess I was disappointed when I heard you were leaving for your studies... But you seem so happy, that there's no reason for me to be sad."  
"Oh, it's that..."  
"You know, when I came out of the hospital and I heard that you were leaving soon, I was furious, but if it means in a few years you can come back here and we'll spend more time together..."  
"Eshé, I don't think I'll go back to the desert,' admitted the Stark, almost ashamed to be betraying her trust. 'I have to make my own life in my home country, there are obligations weighing on me and-"  
"Oh." said the small girl, face closing off.

He winced.

"But don't worry, the time I'll spend here before leaving, we'll spend it together, just you and me! You can assist me in my experiments and I'll teach you about science a bit."

A smile slowly illuminated Eshé's round face, and Ethan served her his best crooked grin, satisfied to see her happy again. The littlest thing could send his friend's mood soaring.

"And when you'll come visit me in Hyrule, I'll take you traveling all over the country, we'll discover tons of things together!"

But this simple sentence wiped out the smile that had been spreading on her face, and she simply nodded. "Yeah, sure..."

A tear fell on the glass, and though Eshé was quick to swat it away, it didn't go unnoticed. He saw the reflection of his friend's put down face in the mirror and felt a pang jab at his heart.

"Eshé?"  
"... I don't think I'll be able to go to Hyrule," she admitted, closing her eyes.  
"Why?"

It was her dream to travel the world, she kept nagging him for stories of the meadows, the lakes and the mountains of his home country; why couldn't she come? The girl didn't reply, instead swiftly turning around and passing a hand on her cheeks, to deny the fact that there were any tears there, any reasons to cry.

"Eshé, why can't you go to Hyrule?" murmured Ethan, ill at ease.

He never saw his friend cry, or at least not for small matters. She always managed to see the glass half-full: if she was stuck in bed all day, it was fine, Ethan would come to tell her stories; if she couldn't try this or that sport, it was alright, she'd find another to her taste... If Link didn't come to say hello, she accepted it: she'd be the one to go see him next time instead.

"I hate this freaking _specialist_! I hate the hospital!"

Ah... he understood, now, the reason she would never travel. He heavily closed his eyes, not wanting to see, what was bound to be Eshé's grave face as she jumped around and murmured with a sob:

"They don't want me to travel..."  
"I understand."  
"They say it's too dangerous for my health!' and then she yelled: 'But it's _my _freaking health, it's _my _freaking life! It's not fair..."

And without any warning she threw herself in the scientist's arm and cried there. They had spent so much time together these last years, growing up as one, despite the six-year gap that separated them. She'd always been the mediator between him and Link and Tasha, claiming that they were best-friends made for each-other, or sometimes that they were in love, embarrassing them all. Tasha wanted her to rest and the boys wanted to go play outside, well, fine, she'd do both in any order that pleased her; and one day when they'd bickered so much in the evening they hadn't been able to speak more than in a murmur, she'd chanted throughout all the hallways of the castle: 'opposites attract!'. Each time they'd go visit her at the hospital, recovering from a crisis, an umpteenth relapse, she'd exclaim: "Hey! Once I come back, we'll go out and play?".

No, it really wasn't fair.

And the rest of those three weeks had slowly gone by on that single thought, the sweet flavor of her innocence and vitality mingling with the bitter tang of the sickness that gnawed at her insides.

No, it really wasn't fair...

Brutally coming back to the present, in his living-room-turned lab, in front of a broken Tasha, Ethan deeply scowled. He didn't want those memories, to be his last of Eshé. He didn't want those faded feelings to his last witness of her tears and laughs, the only proof she had existed in his heart, and for that, he'd do anything, even if it meant finding that Dindamned ass of Link and dragging him halfway across the country to get her.

"We'll find her,' he swore lowly. '_I'll_ find her."

/o\

**So you'll** **notice this world's magic has some 'pokemon-y' elements... Well I wrote Pokemon fanfics, for a very long time, so I taint everything I produce now, haha. Plus the mavatar system is important to the plot. If you didn't get the explanations, don't hesitate to contact me. ^^**


	7. If I were you!

**Yosh.**

**So this chapter is... Two times less than my average one... oo**  
**But it's important for the plot, in many ways. And it did come quickly.**

**If you have started this story before the 1rst of March, I strongly recommend you check if I haven't changed any parts. Read the author's note of Chapter 6: Or a New Beginning...?**

**Anyways guys, I'd really appreciate some reviews for this. I need feedback, I can't go on writing for what feels like nothing... It can get discouraging yknow? So, maybe you could drop a couple of sentences here and there, why not, or simply favorite/follow, to show that you're there... :p Who do you like best, Eshé or Arven?**

Until next time, who knows when that'll be!

/o\

_TILILIT! TILILIT! TILILIT! TILILIT!_

Arven moaned and rolled away from the noise, pressing her pillow on her ears, squeezing her eyes shut. What freaking _time_ was it? Why was there so much _noise_? She shivered and gathered her soft, warm blankets around her, tucking her head underneath them. Maybe that way she wouldn't get noticed.

But waking Arven up wasn't a priority _at all_ in Eshé's mind. She reached to her flashing white alarmstone, a precious gift from Link, and squeezed it in her cold palm to stop the noise. Then she jumped up, got dressed in her usual gear – a baggy short, wide shirt, low piggy-tails to keep her hair out of her eyes and a bright red cap on top of that all – and called upon her mavatar.

Her perfect copy materialized in front of her, yawning, really not understanding why it had been woken up at this hour. It looked to the alarmstone, above which floated in neon blue digits: "5:00".

And promptly started to fade, seeking to return to its mistress's unconscious. Rising so early, was she out of her right mind?

But it was forgetting the fact his mistress was Eshé, and not Arven.

"Hey, there's no way you're going back to sleep!"

Determined amber eyes met a second anxious pair, and the mavatar ended up trembling. Eshé, unfazed, carried on in an enthusiastic voice: "Today's program is two hours of jogging through the forest then one hour of training, and _then _we're leaving with the group! We have to be in top physical physical condition for our first arena challenge!"

Eshé's grin was very wide.  
Eshé's grin was very frightening.  
The mavatar shivered.

For the next two hours they wildly ran through the trees, leaping above roots, ducking branches and pirouetting around trunks in what seemed like an enormous, natural obstacle course. Eshé often laughed and even the mavatar ended up by enjoying itself. Two hours later, at seven o'clock, they stumbled to the camp, legs trembling, breaths ragged and hot in their tired throats, blinking away tears elicited by the rush of their sprint.

Cale and Akin were preparing breakfast and greeted them, to say the least surprised to see Eshé and her mavatar bursting out of the trees and not of the tent. She briefly explained what they had been off to, then led her double to one side of the clearing, a few steps away from their tent.

The mavatar stumbled, disorientated and tired, when she placed a blindfold across its eyes.

"I'm going to throw sticks and branches at you and you have to avoid them using your sixth sense," imperiously demanded its mistress.

Cale and Akin blinked, overhearing her: they'd never heard about any sixth sense whatsoever. Just what was their friend talking about?

But soon Eshé had a pile of heavy, wide logs next to her, and was chucking them at her mavatar, panting with the effort. The first fifteen minutes ended up being very disappointing: the girl's copy didn't know what to expect, often ran right into a second log in its haste to avoid the first, piteously fell down and once got logged straight in the butt.

But ever slowly, be it by survival instinct or magical creation of the previously mentioned 'mavatar's sixth sense', it began to avoid the branches, ducking, jumping to the side and suddenly jerking this way or that. As time wore on its confidence grew and it even began attacking the sticks when it sensed them, throwing this way or that small embers or sparks of electricity. They mostly only deviated the logs, slowing them enough for it to bat them away, but sometimes the attacks were strong enough to burn the wood.

"Yeah! That's super awesome, keep going!" encouraged it Eshé, while Cale commented:  
"It apparently has a knack for Plasma magic..."  
"I'm not surprised, considering Eshé's bubbly personality," smiled Akin.

A few minutes later, jolted to awakening by Eshé's excited cries, Shady emerged from his small tent, white shirt only half-buttoned – how tiring that was – and deep circles under his rusty irises. He grunted something that sounded like 'lo' and heavily sat down beside the boys, eating his own share of the previous evening's leftover soup.

Halfheartedly munching on the fish, pork, rice, salt and Nayru knew other horrors, the Sheikah observed Eshé and listened to the boys' comments. He hadn't either heard about the supposed 'mavatar's sixth sense', but he supposed there was something there, since by now he himself would have been logged to death by the girl: Eshé's mavatar must have something for it. Well at least she was training her double, and was on a good way to start the dissociation process and let her mavatar discover its true form.

Arven truly emerged shortly after. Since five a.m, she'd fallen back asleep, then blinked herself into the waking world, dozed a little more, huddled up in her blankets, then finally decided she had to wake up. She'd stretched, dressed in her black leggings, silvery tunic and high grey boots, and slowly combed her long crow-colored hair, often pausing to rub her eyes.

Then on an impulse she'd invoked her mavatar and started to comb its own hair, talking to it and massaging while it sighted appreciatively. Strengthening the bond between one and its copy was an excellent way to inch towards the dissociation process, and she really was impatient to discover her double's true form.

When they both been thoroughly combed, massaged and all that, she called it back in her, stood up, and stretched once more, feeling her still asleep muscles tremble, and the bottom of her back crack. Then, feeling blissful, she'd walked out of the tent.

And she'd gotten logged square in the face.

"AAAAAAH!" she screamed, falling square on her butt and holding her nose.

The heavy log fell on her thighs, eliciting an ungraceful 'OOOF!' out of her, and Cale rushed to her while the rest looked on, half-worried, half-amused.

"Are you alright my dove?"  
"Do I look alright?" she spat, rolling the thing off.

Her icy glare found the one person responsible of her ridicule: Eshé. The girl, sensing the electric irises honing in on her, grinned and rubbed her neck.

"I think you seriously have some log-dodging lessons to take from my mavatar. He can avoid things blindfolded that you can't see with open eyes!"  
"So what? At least I don't go around chucking logs on people!" Arven hissed, jumping up in one furious move.

Eshé pointed to her double, blindfolded, waiting for the next branch.

"I just told you: you weren't the one supposed to avoid them! It was _our_ training session!"  
"You're training him _blindfolded?_" Arven's dubious interrogation echoed in the small clearing.

What was the tan girl doing, _torturing_ her mavatar?

"Well yes, so it will develop its natural sixth sense and train to predict stuff and feel things coming!" stated Eshé, like it was perfectly obvious.

Arven found the explanation so stupid she didn't bother commenting it, avoiding another quarrel, to everyone's relief. They ate breakfast, packed their bags and the tents, and carried on through the forest, chatting quietly.

The sun was shining, the birds were chirping and the lazy, hot summer air lightly hummed about them along the rhythmic heartbeat of nature. But if a dispute had temporarily been avoided at breakfast, the arguments didn't refrain themselves from breaking out the rest of the morning. It was always a stupid thing that started them: Arven complaining that hiding behind trees to scare people, kicking water on the group and pestering everybody to be at the center of the attention was tiring, and Eshé calling Arven miss-know-it-all when she explained the virtues of this or that flowers or when they had a discussion on magic.

By lunch, six intense quarrels had broken out, and Cale was sick of it – as where Shady and Akin, but they simply tried to focus on other things while the first's chivalrous instinct screamed for him to try and solve the situation.

So it was that when yet another dispute broke out on whether Eshé was authorized to cook or not... and the mavatars like usual took part in the battle, throwing embers, fists and gushes of a heavy black mist this or that way... He screamed:

"STOP! IT'S THE SUNDAE ON TOP OF THE PIE!"  
"Cale normally you say-"

"SHUT UP AKIN!"

The boy snapped his mouth shut, thinking, _but it's the cherry on the piiiie_, while Cale swept on, too angry to notice he'd possibly hurt his friend. Shady blinked, falling asleep on the ground.

"WE'RE SICK AND TIRED OF YOUR STUPID ARGUMENTS!"  
"We're not arguing. We're debating." laconically stated Arven.  
"Well of course it's true we're arguing!" hotly retorted Eshé.

"No, we're debating."  
"We're arguing."  
"DEBATING."  
"ARGUING!"  
"YOU'RE ARGUING TO KNOW IF YOU'RE ARGUING?" burst out Cale, scarlet.  
"OH, YOU, SHUT UP!" shouted the girls as one.  
"NO! NO, YOU SHUT! WE'RE TIRED OF YOUR POINTLESS ARGUING!"  
"And what do you think you're gonna do, huh?' exclaimed Eshé, sharing a conniving look with her mavatar. 'Scold us?"

Cale blinked and took a step back to Akin, mind racing. Yes, what was he going to do, what could he threaten them of to stop them from arguing? Quick, quick, quick he had to find a solution, before they started again and lost all respect for him-

"Cale, I have an idea,' Akin saved him, a smile playing on his lips. 'Do you remember what we did to Lalie and Lilie?"  
"Uh, no, not really," replied the tall boy, trying to recall what his friend was talking about.  
"We'd made them switch places for one day. They'd each wrote their usual schedule on a piece of paper, and the next day one had to follow the indications of the other, as if they were him."

His audience's eyes went round, two with fear, one with a sudden illumination. Shady snored on.

"Oh yes, excellent idea!' Cale turned towards the girls and pointed them with a sadistic air. 'tomorrow Arven-dear, you're going to be Eshé, and you, Eshé, will be Arven-dear!"

And this was how it all started. The girls could protest, sure – it would slow them on their trip to Ordon, they had to hurry because they were already going late, blah blah blah – but upon awakening Shady had promptly agreed, deciding they would camp in this clearing for the afternoon and the rest the night, which secretly please him because he would sleep and not walk.

The two girls could only cry.

/o\

Ordon was a quiet countryside city of two hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants, harboring the highest concentration of humans in Hyrule. The city was all about stone and wooden houses, thatch roofs and dandelion-lined cobble streets, the dull grey of the pavement mingling with a spotted watercolor of white, yellow and green.

Ordon's Healing Center, run with an iron fist by Nurse Tess, was usually very crowded. Ordon was the biggest safe harbor of the Southern Greenlands, and weary amateur explorers often fled back within its guarded ramparts when there lack of professionalism became apparent; sometimes with grave wounds, sometimes with none, but they always stopped at the Healing Center. Even with the help of her ever faithful mavatar, Nurse Tess was frequently overrun.

This was why she was truly glad to have her two new assistants, Candid and Angela!

They were a huge help, doing many things she didn't have time to take care off: assisting for healing, buying provisions on the other side of town, doing the laundry, checking the 'refugees' didn't steal anything when they left, fixing the leek in the roof and cleaning the toilets, dusting the many dark corners that spotted the center and sweeping the floors, and, and-

She knocked on the door of their room, rubbing her eyes as her eyes traced the metallic hands of the clock she'd nailed to the wall, hitting her fingers more than anything, around ten years ago: it was four thirty o'clock.

She knocked harder and when the assistant Candid opened the door her fist ended up on his chest. Too hard.

He spluttered the leftover toothpaste he had in his mouth, on her chest. Her greeting smile stayed frozen as she wiped the white goo of her chest, and he frantically tried to mumble excuses, spraying more of the stuff on her previously pristine uniform.

"Hello Candid. What a nice morning, isn't it?"

He panicked and stumbled back, waving his hands to and fro and succeeding in sticking some of his fine azure hair to his mouth, from which frothy saliva was dripping. Nurse Tess professionally kept her smile active and beaming.

"I'll be seeing you at the lobby in seven and a half minutes."

With that she shut the door.

Inside of the small, cramped and windowless room, dark with rotten wooden walls and smelling of sewer, Candid ran to the sink to empty all the remainder of the toothpaste from his mouth.

"Oh my Din Angee!' he wept, holding a delicate pink lace handkerchief to his wet lashes. 'I _spat _on her!"

Angela dragged herself out from underneath their narrow and wonky wooden bed, ninety centimeters which they had to share all night and under which they had to take turns changing for want of intimacy. He turned to her, teary and ready to spill out just how much the Nurse frightened him, when he caught he assassin glare.

"We could have done EVERYTHING, even PSYCHOLOGIST! But noooo, Mr. Candid wanted to enter N.I, a thrilling life on the dark side of the law! But noooo, Mr. Candid wanted to betray N.I for Faltwin, it was so classy!"

She grabbed him and violently shook his thin and tall frame, shouting:

"WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN TO US IF WE FAIL, HUH? WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN TO US?"  
"Calm down Angee..." he stammered, frightened.  
"NO I WON'T CALM DOWN!"  
"Shhh, I'm sorry Angee I'm sorry, shh..."  
"YOU BETTER BE SORRY! IT'S ONE WEEK WE'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS FREAKING BRAT!"

It was true, already seven days they were waiting for Arven Alethea Seymour to steal her necklace for Faltwin, and still she hadn't come... And their work was too exhausting to even imagine they were doing it for nothing...

"Maybe she skipped this town and went straight for Kakariko, we'll leave tomorrow if you want!"  
"We better..." his partner glowered.

He sighed in relief, his scarlet communication stone rebounding on his chest. And was about to speak, but suddenly rang out an irritated shout:

"Candid! Angela! You're getting late!"

They froze.

"Witch." Angee muttered.

/o\

_TILILIT! TILILIT! TILILIT! TILILIT!_

Arven fumbled for the object that was making so much noise, and with all the strength she could muster in her comatose state smacked her palm on it. It flashed some weird neon signs but at least the racket stopped.

She tried ducking her head underneath her warm covers, she didn't know why, she had a bad feeling, and she felt a headache on the way. But at this moment Cale strode into the tent, holding a sheet of paper that seemed strangely familiar to her.

"All decent?' and he read a few lines off it: 'Jogging with mavatar: 5A.M to 7A.M. So, ready or not?"

The information slowly made its way to Arven's brain as she looked the time the stone was indicating: 5:00.

_WHAM!_

Cale stumbled back, clutching his nose, as the alarmstone heavily fell on his feet. Arven contentedly returned to her warm covers and rolled up in them, holding her pillow closed to her heart. Jogging at five a.m, what would they ask of her next, to walk handstand for the rest of the day? The person that would manage to make her endure such torture hadn't been born!

Except that Cale maybe was kind, and a little too naive, but not so much as to back-off and have to bear with their incessant arguments for the rest of their trip. So he set the alarmstone to the side, strode towards Arven and ripped the covers off her, leaving her in the cold night air; then grabbed her foot and dragged her out of the tent. The crow-haired magic-dueler tried everything, even invoking her mavatar to try and stay in the tent, but it was tugged along the movement and soon they were both outside, sat in front of Cale.

Who dumped a cauldron of icy cold water on her head as she spluttered and gasped.

"I _said_, jogging with mavatar: 5A.M to 7A.M. Do you need to me to repeat _again_?" he demanded in a loud voice.

Oh. Now she remembered, today she had to be Eshé. Cale only received a furious groan in response, but it was already too late.

In the tent, Akin had all the trouble in the world to try and keep Eshé asleep. Well, at least laying down on her bed, with the covers tucked in and the pillow under her head. The runaway wished she could do her jogging, she needed to be outside in the cool air with her mavatar, she needed, to run and feel her muscles tug and burn and she needed her heart to go wild in her chest! She cast a supplicant glance to Akin, but the boy could only helplessly shrug, softly but firmly reading:

"Awakening: 9A.M," from his own sheet of paper.

And with a sorry expression he forced Eshé to close her eyes and stay in the bed, feeling himself tired with the early hour. He was enduring that with much less facility than Eshé, or even Cale.

Said girl, miserable, invoked her mavatar and hugged it, squirming underneath the covers. Oh how she wanted to get up and _move!_

Meanwhile, Arven was struggling. Her chest was scalding hot with exertion, her thighs and legs in general were burning and killing her and tears were forced out of the corners of her eyes by the wind. Her mavatar, ahead of her, often glanced back with a worried expression.

"Come on my dove! It's been ten minutes! There's only one hour and fifty minutes left!"

She was going to kill him. She was serious. When this would be all over and she had three days sleep behind her she was going to kill him.  
Her legs felt like they were dragging her down, her arms, which she tried to maintain near her sides like she'd seen runners do, kept dropping down in exhaustion, she sometimes stumbled on roots and twisted her ankles.

Cale and her mavatar were both running ahead, Cale with practiced ease and the double with its natural, magical strength, and she was the only one slowing them down.

And to say that Eshé had decided to wake up at five a.m for her jogging each morning just so she wouldn't slow them down on their journey... Argh, no, it was out of question that she found a single quality in the loud brat, she had to concentrate on her jogging.

There was no way she was going to abandon if Eshé could do it!

But just then she stumbled on an umpteenth tree root and crashed against a tree.

"STOOOP!' Cale shouted, turning back on his tracks to check on her. 'Are you alright?"

Arven couldn't choke out her sarcastic reply, it seemed stuck in her hoarse throat, her heart felt like it was hammering her chest and her head was spinning. Her clothes stuck to her body, hot with sweat, as her mavatar ended up collapsing onto her, equally exhausted.

Cale gazed at them, he himself was tired but not by that much... Well at least he'd been right to stop the trial after only an hour, otherwise he'd have ended up with two corpses on his arms!

"Right, let's move on..." he declared over the painful moans of his audience.

Back in the tent, Akin sighted. Eshé was fidgeting like a wounded animal, trembling from head to toe, and she could barely stay silent.

"Alright, I'll allow you a sentence remission...' he concluded, passing a hand over his green bandana. 'Let's move on to the next activity: washing your mavatar, and... washing yourself..."  
"Awesome!"

The teen was blushing at the idea of Eshé washing, but said runaway was already rushing out of the tent in a crystalline laugh, launching herself into a cartwheel but just ending up crashing on the other side of the clearing. Her mavatar looked on, embarrassed, but ended laughing with Akin at the comical scene.

Getting up, Eshé moved towards the cauldron, at the bottom of which waited some water leftover by Cale in his attempt to wake Arven. She grabbed the whole recipient and asked her mavatar to come over, preparing to dunk it on its head.

"Wait, not like that!" exclaimed Akin, taken aback.

Eshé stopped midway, cauldron grasped in her arms. "Why not?"

"Because your mavatar uses Plasma magic, and part of that's fire, you could hurt it if you just spill water on it..."  
"Oh okay, how do I wash it then?"  
"Well actually, Arven has a copybook full on mavatar-upbringing, so you could read it..."

He tugged a huge, heavy book out of his satchel and hefted it onto Eshé lap: it was almost bursting with post-its, diagrams and drawings noted as appendixes and stray sheets of paper, spells noted on the margins and bits of rubber stuck here and there in the leather grain.

"Wow! She wrote all that?" asked Eshé, stunned.  
"Yes, she told me that she had summarized her previous year's classes into it, and added personal notes and researches, then took it on her trip because it could end up useful..."  
"Wow," repeated Eshé.

The tanned runaway couldn't help thinking that word, voicing her amazement, softly, as if she thought she would scald the book if her fiery spirit echoed too loudly within its pages. She ran her fingers along its leathery cover and slowly opened it, ending up in the table of contents. She read it slowly, starting orally but eventually letting her voice fade into silence.

"_Regarding Magic;_

Natural Magic: Not Just About Plants  
Mineral Magic: From Gorons to Hyrule  
Plasma Magic: A Furious Division  
Water Magic: Liquid, Gaseous and Solid  
Aerial Magic: Breaking the Sound Barrier  
Shadow Magic: Easier than it Sounds  
Light Magic: Across the Time  
Spiritual Magic: A Spirit in us All

_Regarding Mavatars, for Starters, Novices and Experts;_

Of Natural Type  
Of Mineral Type  
Of Plasma Type,  
Of Water..."

She plunged herself in the book, eventually finding a note concerning 'cleaning and caring for a Plasma Type', and couldn't retain the third, soft 'wow', as it escaped her lips. Everything was explained in details, stunningly realistic drawings made comprehension quick and easy, the only thing that could make understanding the slightest bit difficult was Arven's thin and loopy handwriting and the numerous abbreviations.

To clean her mavatar, she had to rub it with cool ashes and a slightly humid cloth. It apparently was a fun activity, as Akin heard giggles coming from inside the tent as he waited for the two.

As soon as that was over, Eshé dived again for the book and read anything she could under Akin's confused gaze, her amber eyes shining. She wanted to learn about Plasma Types, Spiritual Types and magic, the dissociation process, everything. So it was she understood the basics of magic-dueling and mavatar-upbringing and started combating her one and huge flaw: her ignorance. And as she read Arven's copybook, avidly drinking all the information, she couldn't help to feel a certain admiration for the crow-haired girl growing in her. Admiration, and a new-found sense of rivalry, because she was now certain that Shady's student was a worthy opponent, one she would inevitably have to face to progress.

That same feeling was animating Arven as she worked with her mavatar in a clearing not far away. They'd imitated Eshé's training from the previous day, but this time both Arven and her double were dodging Cale's logs, though only her mavatar was blindfolded.

Another branch hurtled towards them and she ordered her incarnation to deviate it with a jet of water; but she still got logged in the head, _and _endured the attack after that because her partner had been too slow.

They collapsed on the ground, her blinking water away from her vision and staring at the early morning sky, feeling sore all over. She still had a long way to go. No, _they_ still had a long way to go.  
She'd totally neglected her mavatar's training, privileging its happiness and their bond. And she had to recognize that Eshé had formulated a complete and balanced training program for her own double, despite her lack of knowledge.

She frowned. What had gotten into her? Why was she respecting that stupid and excited brat?

… But Eshé wasn't stupid, she was just unorthodox, she wasn't excited, but hyperactive, and if her repartee made her seem like a brat... Well, actually no, Eshé _was_ a brat.

But that didn't change that she had qualities, and Arven had been wrong to consider her in such a condescending way since the start.

Wasn't respect the first step towards friendship? Towards peace?

The two girls smiled under their respective monitor's benevolent gazes. Step number one: check.

Soon it was time for lunch, and the groups met for the first time in the morning, Cale and Akin sharing a conniving glance. They'd made it.

When Shady dragged himself out of his tent, still completely asleep and only the smell of food spurring him on, it was to find Eshé pestering Arven with questions about magic, about mavatar-upbringing, details of her own experiences and her teachings at school. Arven in return asked Eshé about her training ideas, her different methods and about the desert, while the boys watched on, silent and smiling.

The childhood companions had found the morning so conclusive they thought the afternoon might not even be needed... And the girls ended up effectively convincing them: Arven begged Cale on her knees not to endure another jogging, and Eshé jumped into a tree shouting 'VADE RETRO SATANAS' when came the time to brush her hair.

Shady sleepily suggested they move on, and the teenagers agreed, taking care of packing their bags and folding the tents. So it was that they sank into the forest again, singing 'I'm on top of the world!' by Imagine Dragons.

Eshé led the four with her crystalline, pure voice, Cale and Arven formed a melodious and moving tandem during the choirs, and Akin masked up any false notes with his warm, steady tone. Shady clapped his hands on his ears, cursing all this noise that forced him to ever more wake, but eventually relaxed under the dusty rays of the sun, simply, appreciating the improvised concerto.

There was no reason not to smile when the mood was so high.

/o\

However moral was not so light everywhere in the kingdom.

Hundreds of kilometers away from our adventurous group, in a dried-out, deserted canyon of the Zora water-lands, two men suddenly appeared in a flash of black light.

The first of the two, a tall, hulking figure, strode forward among the debris of the building that had been there before: namely, one of his very costly . His almost black irises surveyed the destroyed remains of the N.I edifice with a brutal contempt, and with one sweep of his hands, the last Blessed Flower pedestal that had survived Candid's explosion hurtled to the side, and crashed against a ravine wall.

"Shasti."

Hearing his name declared with such vicious acidity brusquely startled the second man out of the silent contemplation of his boots, but he didn't show it, not by the twitch of an eye. He was much younger than the first, probably just under eighteen, and his bright, flaming red hair mostly hid his silvery eyes from view.

"Yes, father?" he laconically blew out, standing stock-still.  
"Find the two who did this, dead or alive. And they have it, bring me our experiment."  
"Yes, father."

The second made a move to use the somber teleportation stone he had clutched in his hands, but his progenitor waved him to a stop, a cruel smile playing on his lips.

"Oh, and Shasti? Don't try to run away like last time. You know what will happen."

The younger man stilled as his pater turned around, imposing mass against lithe silhouette, and offered him a gaze dark with contempt and menace. The youngest let the slightest of seconds slip before he replied:

"Yes, father."

And in a flash of ebony he was gone.

/o\

"I SEE ORDON! I SEE ORDON!"

Dusk was still resisting to twilight's somber hues. Browns, pinks and faded oranges laced the skies, violet barely grazing the darkening heavens. The trees were ceding way to a short stretch of bare, rutted earth, here and there lavender flowers greeted the cooling air with their trembling petals, and birds bid farewells in sweet voices to the day. All was harmonious except the single excited girl that sprinted through the trees, bare feet throwing clumps of earth against tree roots and wild mane catching against twigs, ending up resembling a bird's nest.

The whole group, even Shady, quickened pace, Arven used the jogging lesson she'd had that morning to catch up with Eshé in a few bounds. Their path was alight with dancing reds and oranges, and they breathlessly sprinted along it, legs pumping with the exhaustion. Suddenly the trees were behind them and they brusquely stopped, contemplating a vast green bowl.

Ordon's valley.

They were finally out of those crappy woods, returning to civilization! Tonight they would sleep in a bed, a real bed! Joy overwhelmed Arven's better judgment and she jumped into Eshé's arms, participating in her dance.

No more insects! No more mud! No more dust! No more CAMPING!

"We should normally arrive tomorrow," analyzed Akin, having stopped beside them.

No more- WHAT!?

"Yes, you're probably right. Let's camp here tonight," yawned Shady.

BUT WHY-

"Huh? How come?' asked Eshé. 'The city seems so near!"

It was true: they stood on the edge of an abrupt cliff, say, a couple dozen meters high. Or more, Arven was very bad at judging distances, but that wasn't the point. Underneath that stretched what looked like a deep blue pool, and then, the first roofs of Ordon.

"Well our sense of direction went completely wrong. The only way through the cliffs that surround Ordon is way over there," calmly explained Akin, pointing a wide gap in the rock more than few kilometers away, a dark hole against the orange-hued horizon.

"Nooooo..." sighted Arven, crushed and exhausted.

Eshé glanced at her, compassionate, then turned to Cale and asked, confused:

"But are we really forced to enter that way? Why can't we go down the cliff?"  
"Huh, ar you out of your right mind? It's too dangerous!" the boy retorted out, red.

Shady couldn't agree more: just how crazy was the runaway? He hope she didn't get injured, or the Gerudo would have his head off for sure! The Sheikah was about to speak against whatever his tanned charge had in mind, deeming another day of walk wouldn't kill Arven, when she grinned.

Uh oh.

"Sooooo if we _do _manage to go down that way, we can sleep in a real bed tonight?" she asked, but it was more rhetorical that anything, since that fact was obvious to everybody.

Upon those words Arven clasped Eshé's hands in hers and exclaimed, eyes shining desperately:

"Whatever twisted idea you'll come up with I'll do it!"

Her words were Eshé's starting signal; immediately the girl trotted back to the forest and told the group to tightly pack their affairs and be 'ready'. Ready for what, nobody knew.

When she returned she carried three enormous, thick and stiff green leaves, almost as tall as her. Smiling, she set one in front of Shady, another in front of Cale and Akin, and kept the third for herself, dragging Arven with her to the cliff.

The crow-haired girl felt much less reassured when she found her legs hanging in the void beyond, the ground seeming so far away from her dangling feet, waiting for the impulsion that would send her careening down. Impulsion that Eshé didn't waste time giving, grinning her head off.

She screamed as they plunged down, skidding along the brown earth of the cliff, so fast, fast, so fast; then suddenly a huge bump sent them rocketing skywards and soaring high in the air, reaching the pinnacle of their flight to tip back down... Eshé laughed so loud, Arven felt almost sucked to the pool, air whistling so fast around her face she had to shut her eyes for fear of cutting them, she was so scared. They were free-falling, her heart was wild in her chest, and she heard Cale and Akin and Shady behind them, half-shouting half-snorting – she didn't know they did because she was _really _not in the mood for laughing-

_SPLASH._

Icy cold water seeped into her clothe, her mouth and nose, every pore of her skin, snaking between her breasts and swirling around the roots of her hair... She coughed and bubbled up, with a great many flailing gestures and wild attempts to swim. She burst out, seeing Eshé floating in front of her, and recovered her breath while three other brutal foamy ripples signified the emergence of their companions.

The young girl shakily swam to the shore and took in her surroundings: wide stone and wooden houses, with roofs of warm straw; cobble lined street around which dandelions peeked at they tried to reclaim their natural right. She glanced back at where they were before: a high and steep-sloped cliff, ending in a spring-board some twenty meters above them. She gulped. They were lucky to have gotten out of it alive.

Akin's voice drew her out of her somber thoughts – she was imagining all the ways this could have ended –:

"Well at least we're at Ordon safe and sound!"

Safe and sound... By miracle. Hehe. Hehe.

But just to take her revenge, she jumped on Eshé, to make her sink deep, her and her stupid ideas.


End file.
